Step 3.8
"Is the hot chocolate a metaphor?"
I rolled back into my seat, hands frantically trying to straighten my hair. Really need to come up with a better plan than changing clothes in the van.
"No," I replied. "It's not a metaphor. Literal hot chocolate."
The van turned onto my street, several blocks from my house. The clock ticked closer and closer.
"Drop me off up here."
Three blocks should be enough to get some sweat going.
I tucked my mask and costume on the floor by my feet. I'd fix the damage later. For now I needed to cover the home front, also known as my dad, who probably noticed five minutes ago I was running late.
"Your mother scolded you," Veda said, "and then rewarded you."
And it took me nearly ten years to figure out why. Though, even as it all fell together in my head I struggled to put it into words. Too distracted.
"It's complicated. We'll talk about it, but if I don't get through the front door soon Dad is going to notice something is up right here!"
The van stopped for the light and I threw the door open.
"Later, Veda."
I closed the door and broke into a run. The van pulled a U-turn behind me, ferrying the suit to the workshop for repairs. Lots of repairs. Probably take a week to rebuild the armor. Something else to deal with later.
My eyes turned toward the dawn as my feet pounded the pavement. My shoulder still ached, as did most of my body. I'd gotten fairly used to it, but that didn't make it feel any less miserable. The cool morning air helped ease that a bit, and the running loosened me up a bit.
One foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left. Right.
When I made it to the front door I took a deep breath. In the window I ruffled my hair a little bit. I looked suitably exhausted.
I pushed the door open.
"Dad?"
He didn't answer, which was odd. I closed the door behind me and crept forward. Not lying in wait in the recliner like some cliché. I didn't hear the shower running, so not in the bathroom. Sleeping in?
I walked into the kitchen, finding a plastic-wrapped plate of eggs and bacon and a folded note. Taking the paper in my hands and reading it over, I sighed in relief.
I walked into the living room and fell back onto the couch. Our ratty old couch that I think was older than me.
Felt pretty good.
Really good.
Yeah.
After taking a few moments to just sit and do nothing, I lifted the note and read it again. Some problem at the union building. Not unusual. He apologized, left me breakfast and wished me a good day at school god damn it I forgot about Winslow.
I groaned and sat up. Taylor Hebert absent the same morning Newtype ran into trouble? After returning to school the day before Newtype revealed her secret weapon? Yeah. No one would notice that coincidence.
Today is going to be too long.
Forcing myself back to my feet, I cast the note aside. Back in the kitchen I sat and ate the lukewarm eggs and bacon—not good—and tried to organize a to-do list in my head.
Veda and the Haros could take care of the Gundam for a little bit. Basic repairs wouldn't trouble them, but I'd have to look it over myself at some point. My costume too, but I'd be done with that in an hour or so whenever the fabricators freed up enough to print a new visor.
As frustrating as that was, it didn't compare to the mountain of homework I needed to get through.
Medhall and the Empire for one. The consequences of that revelation I couldn't even begin to fathom. Maybe the Nazi's just infiltrated the company? Dad fought off attempts by the gangs to get into the Dockworker's Union all the time. The company might not even know. Disconcerting, but not insurmountable until I included the Undersiders and other villains taking advantage of me, Ramius and the PRT, Veda and Dinah and Winslow god dammit Winslow.
I checked the time and groaned.
Too many plates on my table.
I ran late getting out the door. Didn't get enough time in the shower to fully wash my hair, nor dry it, and I was still pulling my sweater down over my chest as the door closed behind me.
Still managed to get my butt into a seat before the bell rang for first period.
"You look like shit."
I glanced over to Trevor and, "You don't?"
He yawned and rubbed one dry crusty eye. A blood shot eye. I'm not the only one missing out on sleep apparently.
"Touche. What happened to you?"
"Studying. You?"
"Stuff."
"Must have been some important stuff."
He shrugged. "You catch the news?"
I avoided the news. Not much interest in being reminded of my failure by every talking head and their two cents. Unfortunately, I forgot Trevor was a cape geek who probably stayed up all morning chatting online about the grand tale of my defeat.
"No."
"Newtype got into a fight with Oni Lee and the Undersiders."
A shiver ran up my spine. "Oni Lee. And the Undersiders?"
Trevor leaned towards me with a grin. "And she totally walked away. Well. Flew way." He shook his head. "You know what I mean."
And now everyone probably thinks I'm a coward.
Though I doubted most of them would be as pleased as Trevor looked. I'd seen people romanticize villains. Happened all the time, like how people thought the Godfather or Scarface were cool. Trevor was the first time I'd even seen anyone look happy about a villain beating a hero.
Mom used to say the inevitability of defeat that surrounded "bad guys" in part gave them appeal. Everyone loved an underdog, she said. Anyone who knew how the story was supposed to go knew they'd lose.
"I liked Newtype before. I like her more now."
What? "What?"
"She got into a fight with five villains and walked away."
"You like that she lost a fight?"
Trevor's brow went up. "Who said she lost?"
I stared back with my own brow raised. "You said she found Oni Lee and the Undersiders and ran away?"
"I said she got away. I don't call that losing. I call that bad ass!"
I didn't get it. Obviously.
"So what. Newtype won in your book?"
"Is there a book where crossing paths with five villains and walking away is a loss?"
"She didn't catch any of them. Not even-" I stopped myself short before I said too much. "I mean. She didn't, did she?"
"No." Trevor shrugged. "But that's not surprising. The Protectorate hasn't caught any of them either."
I went over the fight in my head. Not that I remembered it play by play. The whole thing ran as one big blur of me flailing back and forth trying to get away while Oni Lee did as he pleased. Even when I managed to catch him I couldn't keep him, and then he followed me into the sky and we went back to the flailing until the Haros let me cheat.
"I'd say not getting killed is a pretty good win," Trevor continued. "I mean, maybe win is a strong word, but Oni Lee is a killer and the Undersiders keep giving everyone the slip."
Trevor opened up a PHO thread and pointed.
"Lots of people are saying they saw a whole bunch of explosions too, but Newtype still flew away."
"Hm."
So maybe I didn't win, but I guess I didn't really lose either. Other than having to swallow some pride and accept help from the Protectorate and PRT, everything would get fixed eventually. Maybe even in less than a week if I threw myself into fixing O Gundam.
And really, when I thought about it, did Oni Lee win? He didn't stop the Undersiders. He didn't eliminate me. He lost his leg for his trouble. That's not a win.
So neither of us won, which still stung. I only got involved in the first place to keep Oni Lee from killing the Undersiders.
Which was exactly what they wanted.
So really, the Undersiders were the winners.
Huh…Fuck the Undersiders.
Trevor rubbed the back of his head. "I'm going total cape geek, aren't I?"
Um. "Just a little?"
"Sorry. I'll let you go to, whatever it is you do to kill time around here."
"Web surfing," I answered.
"Yeah that."
While Trevor turned his attention back to his class work, I got started on that to-do list, starting with the Undersiders.
I never paid them much mind before. Apparently, neither did anyone else. Except Armsmaster. The Undersiders thread on PHO almost read like a hate thread for the guy. Way they told it, the Undersiders played some Moriarty to his Sherlock, constantly leading him down trails just to humiliate him.
I'd probably get to enjoy that if I didn't sympathize and wow I'm sympathizing with Armsmaster.
I blamed the Undersiders for that too.
Even Veda didn't have much. Not hard to figure out why. I geared her search algorithms and processing around the gangs. The whole system advantage of the news, social media, and crime reports. Throw everything together and boil it down to the useful nuggets.
None of that worked on the Undersiders.
Barely any news reports mentioned them. They didn't maintain a membership of thugs I could track, nor did they have any online presence pushing an agenda. The Undersiders targeted villains too. Lots of their crimes probably went unreported as a result. They maintained no territory, fought no battles over turf, and seemed willing and able to strike anywhere in the city.
Even their powers eluded me beyond "makes black stuff" and "giant monster dogs." No one knew anything about Tattletale except that she claimed to be psychic. Telepathy is impossible, so obvious lie there. No one knew anything about Sovereign except the word "Master" and only because the PRT issued an advisory about her.
My quick search for other minor villains went even worse.
No one knew anything about Chariot, except that an obvious tinker was obvious. No news reports. Not even a page on the parahumans wiki. Just a small PHO thread started by someone claiming to be him, but it didn't get much attention. Looking at the dates though, he did tend to post on the days I went out.
On those same dates I found two robberies by Circus. Also some break-ins and assaults committed by some hustler named Laughter, and a vigilante going by Savage. A few other crimes came up with capes suspected to be involved. Probably a couple costumed personalities around the Bay I didn't know about. I imagine more than a few tried to keep low profiles to avoid attention.
"Catching up on your news?" Trevor leaned over and looked at my screen. "Curiosity get the better of you Taylor?"
"I guess."
"Yeah." He looked over the pages I'd pulled up. "Minor leagues huh? They're neat. Undersiders, Chariot, Circus. Cops and robbers kind of villains."
"Cops and robbers?"
"You know. Get in and out with the loot kind of thing, the good guys show up try to stop them, in the end no one really gets hurt? Like those old comic books from the 70s."
Actually…"Lots of villains coming out lately. Circus, and this Laughter guy."
"Laughter is a girl I think."
"A girl?"
"Yeah. Not much of a villain either. More of a vigilante."
I went back to some of the pages I found about "her." I didn't see anything about her being a vigilante.
"A vigilante who breaks and enters?"
"She goes after abusive parents," Trevor explained. "There's a website where you're supposed to be able to put in your name, and if your father's a mean drunk or something Laughter shows up and teaches them a lesson. So I hear."
I rechecked the news articles. Veda might be able to confirm if any police officers got called to the addresses, or if child services ever investigated the families. Not sure how I felt about that.
Abusive authority figures I held little sympathy for.
The bell rang, and Trevor rose up from his seat. "Well, see you tomorrow."
"See you."
I sat back, more than a little annoyed with myself. Should have seen it coming. If someone started picking on the gangs, pressing them into defensive positions, then all the other villains would inevitably seize the opportunity. I felt stupid for not factoring that into my plans. It couldn't stand.
I went to my phone for the next few classes.
A good thing recent events gave me a productive streak.
Adjusting the current search algorithm wouldn't do. I based it too much on geography, being able to pin down an area and narrow the search. Needed to go about it differently to fix the problem. Reverse it. Start with a data point, expand outward.
How to keep that from spiraling into an unending mess?
Might take some trial and error.
A tap against the back of my head in third period broke my train of thought. Been awhile, but I knew even before I reached back. I found a nice little spit wad, in my hair naturally.
Good times, right?
I glanced back, Madison's smiling face greeting me from the back of the room. I'd forgotten about them for a moment. Needed a second to think up an appropriate response.
A good thing spit wads held nothing against men blowing themselves up in front of me.
I pressed the spitball between two fingers, and flicked it with my thumb. The little ball sailed through the air right past Mr. Gladly's head and onto the chalk board.
The lecture stopped, and Gladly turned to face the room.
"I get it guys, school is boring." He smiled and pointed at the spit wad. "That's no reason to assault the chalk board!"
No one laughed, though a few people glanced back looking. I shrugged, eyes going down and back to my work.
"Taylor did it!" Madison shouted.
Mr. Gladly looked at me, and I raised my head and acted surprised.
He shook his head and pointed at me. "Taylor, save the texting for after class. Madison, don't lie."
"But I'm not!"
"Taylor, hands?"
I raised my hands. Nothing but a phone. That got a few whispers going around.
"Don't lie Madison," he repeated. "Now. Where were we?"
God bless the man. Being a complacent do-nothing didn't quite equate to idiocy. Shame I never thought of ways to leverage that before.
Gladly went back to his lecture, apparently okay with gossiping as long as it didn't escalate to texting or projectile weaponry.
I set my phone aside, watching as Amy Jensen turned to Betty White and said something. Tommy Hannigan said something to Kyle Vickers and so on. Madison glowered with a childish pout, Julia choking back a laugh beside her.
Poor little Madi losing some wind from her sails.
My mood needed a pick me up.
She spent the rest of the period glowering. Kind of silly. One little prank didn't turn out how she wanted so she pouted for thirty minutes. Guess she wasn't used to not getting her way, go figure.
This might be even easier than I thought.
Madison hurried from the room when the bell rang, the other popular girls in the class quick behind her. One of them shoved my shoulder as she went to the front of the room.
I just rolled with it, letting the force push me from my seat. I rose up, rubbing my bad shoulder and thankful she didn't hit that one. They continued on their way, two of them giving me venomous smiles.
I walked out calmly. With luck they went straight to Emma and goaded her into "putting me in my place." Ever since I got back things went too tame for me to move forward. I needed something to happen, even if I needed to annoy the bitches till they finally reacted.
Charlotte beat me to the roof as usual.
"Hey."
I sat down beside her, a cool breeze picking up some strands of hair. "Any trouble?"
"Just the usual stares and glares." She offered a small smile, adding, "Maybe Emma's still flustered?"
"Doubt it. Madison shot me with a spitball in Gladly's class."
Charlotte took a bite from her sandwich and chewed. She stared at me for a moment, and after swallowing said, "You seem kind of happy about it."
I didn't hide my smile. "The sooner they do something, the sooner I can do something." And I could use a win today.
"Okay…Did you really fight Oni Lee and the Undersiders?"
"Just Lee. Undersiders ran away."
"Was that, scary?"
"Of course it was scary," I mumbled.
Man blew himself up without hesitation, chased me into the sky without a thought, and only ran away when he lost a leg. How is that not scary?
Charlotte went back to her food, and I went back to my phone. Weird how routine my school days became. Coast through my classes thinking about tinker designs and hero work. Chat with Trevor about topics of the day. Meet Charlotte on the roof for lunch.
Charlotte finished her meal and started packing her lunchbox. I noticed a scratch on the surface I didn't remember seeing before.
"Drop your lunch box?"
"Hm? Oh. Uh. Yeah I guess." She ran her finger over the slight scar. "It's not important."
Lying.
Sophia probably.
Before I could press, Charlotte pulled out her phone. "So, Canary is going to Boston."
Canary? "The singer?"
"Yeah. She's got a show this weekend. I bought the tickets months ago but, well, there's no one to go with me anymore." She hung her head, face mixed between fearful and happy. "Do you want to go?"
I raised my brow. "To a concert?"
"Yeah. I have an extra ticket. I wanted to invite Michelle, but Emma kind of…"
"Turned her to the dark side?"
Charlotte nodded.
I sighed. "I. Don't have the time for something like that."
Good god did I not have the time. Even if I found time, a concert? Not my idea of fun. Too many people, and far too much noise. I'd rather just read a book and relax for an afternoon.
"Oh." Her face turned a little red. "Right. Stupid question I guess."
"Sorry?"
"It's alright. Stupid thing to ask. I know you're not here to be friends. Not with me anyway."
I started to agree, but stopped. The word 'no' sounded heartless even before I said it. While hardly wrong, I didn't really like hearing it put like that. I needed the bullying stopped, or at least, someone put in charge who would take it more seriously. Anything to head Blue Cosmos off at the pass before they fired that lawsuit.
Still not sure why they hadn't.
"I know this sucks," I said. "You know I know, right?"
Charlotte shrugged. "Yeah."
It's not like I wanted Charlotte to be friendless. Whatever grudge I held about her inaction in the past, she didn't deserve this. No one did.
I didn't expect any of the bullies to be expelled. They'd probably be able to ruin her social life at school regardless of anything I did. She might never have friends for the rest of high school.
So back to sucking at high school is it?
What did I even used to do in school? Maybe it was just my power, but everything I learned seemed so basic. Who can't do basic algebra in their head? Not a thought I ever had before. Usually I just talked to Emma between classes, did whatever work landed in front of me, and went out after school and before going home.
Didn't seem that hard. Make some jokes, get to know each other- Oh. I thought back to Stratos' "insults." Not really insults at all. Just people who knew each other joking around.
Let it never be said a power that makes you smarter prevents stupidity.
Idiot.
I hesitated for a moment, my voice stumbling to a start.
"I, uh, I really can't go to a concert. But, maybe something less I don't know. Big?"
Charlotte's head perked up and she glanced at me. I shrugged and pulled out my phone.
"Someone keeps telling me I need to get out more anyway. Maybe she's right."
"What. Like coffee or something?"
"I prefer te-" Not the point Taylor. "Yeah. Just go somewhere…" My voice trailed off, a little bolt going off in my brain.
I'd save a lot of trouble by not attacking at the same time of day every time. Harder to take advantage of me if went less predictable. Easy enough, if not for all the appearances I needed to keep. Dinah and her "tutoring," Winslow, Dad at home.
If I went out with a friend some afternoons? If we actually did stuff from time to time, just to cover my bases if anyone went looking into me…
That could work.
But did I want to drag Charlotte into my cape business? Would I even be dragging her in at this point? Sophia and Blue Cosmos already put her right in the middle. She knew my identity.
The bell rang, and we both looked to the door back into hell.
"I'll figure it out."
"Um yeah. That would be nice."
We descended into the building, and I spotted them quickly.
Didn't know their names, but they traveled in the popular girl circle. I'd seen them with Emma before. They leaned against a doorway down the hall as we reentered the building, phones out and everything. Once we started down the hall they followed.
Me, or Charlotte? Both?
Well, if I knew Emma, and I did…
"I'll see you later," I said in a slightly raised voice. "Need to use the bathroom."
I didn't wait for her response. We passed a set of restrooms on our way down the hall to our fifth periods, so our tails must have seen me go in.
I ignored the two girls smoking inside. I went into a stall and waited about four minutes. Should be enough time. One more minute, just to be sure.
One of the two girls had already left when I came out.
They must have slipped in as she left.
"Oh Taylor! There you are!" Emma smiled. "I swear it's like you're avoiding me. Very rude."
I kept my shoulders straight, pretending to ignore her as she spoke and washed my hands.
Emma stepped closer to me, looking at my reflection in the mirror and whispering, "Washing your hands over and over isn't going to get rid of the smell, silly."
Not sure why I started thinking about that day in kindergarten again. Emma standing there crying, and those three boys bearing down on her. Me, sticking up for her in the way only the child of an English professor could. Yeah.
I pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and dried my hands. "I was thinking about you earlier."
"Oh Taylor. You know I don't swing that way. Besides, aren't you and Charlotte a thing?"
Ah yes, the good old quips about my sexuality.
Madison giggled like a school girl, and Sophia did the glowering for all three of them. Damn she really does look like Hookwolf. In spirit. Sort of. Whatever.
"No need to be embarrassed Tay," Emma giggled. "It's 2011! No one cares about girl-on-girl anymore." Emma glanced up and down the hall. "Well, except for the Nazis but we won't tell them."
The mention of Nazi's jarred my head. Perfect in a way, like fate. Fit together just right. Made me sick to my stomach though. The exact same thing Emma did to me, dragging up my past to embarrass and humiliate.
Oh well. I'd live with it.
I stepped away from the sink and turned to Emma. "Is Brett still here?"
Emma looked at me. "Brett?"
"Brett Thomspon."
Shocked isn't the right word. Emma's eyes twitched a little, jaw a little slacked. I saw the gears turning, but she obviously didn't know what I was talking about. Did she forget? I certainly hadn't thought about it for a long time, but I never forgot.
Madison leaned towards Sophia, "Isn't Brett on the track team?"
"Hangs out with the Nazis," Sophia answered.
Emma snapped out of whatever stupor she'd been in.
"Is that where you went, Taylor? Making friends with the Empire?"
Emma didn't sound like she believed that. It didn't even sound like an insult. A legitimate question after all this time.
"Just remembering how he cornered you in kindergarten." Still no recognition on her face. "Hadn't thought about it in a long time, but this stupid little game reminded me of it."
"Did you hit yourself on the head, Tay?"
I glanced up at the ceiling.
Hit.
Well, if she wanted to hand it to me. Hit. Yeah. That would do it, wouldn't it?
Lowering my chin I looked my friend in the eye.
"Could just walk away, Emma. We never have to talk to each other again."
Pointless, I knew. Still, even after everything she did to me...Emma was my friend, once. Even if the bitch in front of me dedicated herself to ruining my life, it felt right to acknowledge that things weren't always like that.
Her face gave me my answer. That confident sneer, hands on her hips, and a slight lean towards Sophia. She'd never stop.
"Why Taylor! We're friends! I'd never-"
Whatever. One last try before it all started towards a conclusion. Made me feel better, like I'd truly tried everything before raising my hand.
"Leave you-"
I threw my arm forward in a sloppy wide swing, hand balled improperly with my thumb inside my fingers. For a brief moment, Emma seemed genuinely shocked, like it never once occurred to her I might hit her after everything she did.
Not that I planned to.
Couldn't afford to leave a mark on her pretty face.
Not sure what exactly Sophia did, but my wrist got grabbed and my face hit the wall. I must really be used to it or something. I barely felt it when my skull bounced off the tile. I stumbled back, all balance lost for a brief moment before I grabbed the lip of the sink to steady myself.
Everything looked blurry, but only on one side.
My glasses are broken.
I heard Emma laugh. "Really Taylor? That's your response?"
The red topped mop stood just behind the black topped black one. I pushed myself away from the wall, a throbbing sensation working its way from my cheek to the back of my skull.
I needed to get right up against the mirror to make it out. A growing red sore from my cheek to my temple. Exactly the kind I needed to. Big enough to be noticed, but small enough that it would heal in a day or two.
Not so hard to get Sophia to hit me after all.
Emma started to speak. I didn't listen.
My body went right for the door, managing to squeeze past Sophia and Madison. Emma's laughter followed me a ways down the hall. Even with one less lens in my glasses I knew my way through the halls.
I found the back exit and threw the door open.
I kept running to the end of the block, and ducked into an alley. After catching my breath and rubbing the rising ache in my face, I smiled.
Fucking finally.
I pulled my broken glasses off and swapped them with the spare pair in my pocket. Been carrying them around for two weeks almost, just waiting, and it finally happened.
I waited a little while, glancing down the street to be sure no one followed. Once I felt confident I was free and clear, I went straight to the garage.
Veda greeted me the moment the door closed, asking, "Are you injured?"
I glanced to the nearest camera. "I suppose, but since that's the point I can't say I'm bothered. Is 'Tammy' ready to send that email?"
"She is," Veda answered. "Anonymously."
"Of course. Send it in the morning. We'll see what the Superintendent makes of it."
I sat down at the work station and leaned forward.
My mood turned pretty fast. Nice of the Trio to get off their asses and do something, and they gave me the afternoon off to boot.
"At least one plan went right today," I whispered.
Maybe I wouldn't need to worry about Winslow for much longer.
I looked at the clock. Needed to kill a few hours, so I went back to work. I sent Charlotte a warning, but the trio didn't usually bother her in the afternoon. They knew she left with Mrs. Knott probably and didn't see the point.
At three I opened a chat line and sent Dinah a message.
sys.t/ I'm going to be late
sys.t/ can you wait after school?
Took a few minutes for Dinah to respond.
sys.d / yes
sys.d / are you angry?
My fingers hovered over the keys for a moment.
sys.t / we'll talk after I pick you up
After I finished with the new search algorithm I let it compile. The suit knelt against the far wall, the Haros rolling back and forth to replace the armor and components. With all the armor removed it didn't even look damaged. A quick check of some components didn't reveal anything either.
Bonus points for durability.
"Maybe we should get another van. One with spare parts and articulating arms for quick repairs."
"Insufficient financial resources," Veda replied.
"Right. Money."
Another thing for the list then. Why not?
"I'll be back with Dinah, and we can finish that talk."
"Very well. I have saved the information provided by Lieutenant Ramius."
Oh right. Her.
The other half of solving my Winslow problem?
How much I believed anyone in the PRT only went so far. Still. A lot of trouble to go through if they weren't serious.
If I pulled off my mask and accused Sophia of causing my trigger event, would they do something about it? Did they value a tinker who could understand tinker tech more than the thug who arrested a couple crooks on a weekly basis? That thought only made me angrier. Sophia should have been dealt with in the beginning, not when it became convenient.
Did other PRT branches work differently than the one in the Bay? Easy to see the Bay as a rotten backwater, but honestly I didn't imagine Boston as being much better. I looked up Director Armstrong on my phone, but PRT directors just didn't seem to have much public profile.
My search brought up a few videos of the guy at conferences talking about the importance of understanding parahuman powers and how they work. Calvert said my "case" was right up his alley. That tracked.
"I believe you are sufficiently late to draw notice," Veda said.
I checked the time. "Be back soon."
I put Ramius out of my mind. For now, first half of the Winslow problem, also known as Blackwell.
The front steps to Arcadia Middle were empty when I stepped off the bus. A few students lingered on the athletics field and under some trees, but I'd obviously missed the big rush of parents and buses picking up kids. The inside of the school appeared equally barren.
I found my way into the front office. The secretary lifted her head as I entered, Dinah sitting on the chair by the door. And yeah, the office had the same layout as Winslow too. I glanced right, easily finding the door marked "Principal." Greene had her name on it though.
Time to act like a normal teenage girl who just got physically assaulted.
"Sorry I'm late Dinah." I held my hand out to her.
She raised her brow and rose from the seat. "S'okay."
She took my head, and I glanced briefly at the secretary. "Is Mrs. Greene still here?"
The secretary nodded.
Good. "I'm really sorry I'm late. It won't happen again, if you can tell her?"
She nodded again, but without looking at me. She didn't notice?
"Really. Really sor-"
The door to the Principal's office opened and Mrs. Greene looked at me.
"Ah. Mrs. Hebert. I thought I-" She stopped and I turned my head slightly. "What happened?"
Step one in teenage denial; denial.
"What do you mean?"
She glared down her nose. "You have a bruise on your face Ms. Hebert. Are you alright?"
I hung my head slightly, easily falling right back into the girl who constantly felt defeated and helpless. Like an old suit I hated wearing.
"Oh that. Right. I, um"—step two, obvious lying—"fell earlier." Which concludes in step three, stupid bullshit excuse. "A little clumsy of me."
Mrs. Greene frowned. I feigned ignorance, helping Dinah up and asking her how her test went.
"Okay," she replied. "Think I need more practice with my book report though."
"We can go over it at the library."
"Okay."
Greene made no move to stop me. I didn't mind. I walked in with a bruised face and acted defensively. Not enough for her to step in and ask any questions, but enough to raise some red flags.
No need to rush. Might take more than a few attempts to really get the ball rolling.
Felt fitting to cast a net around Blackwell after she trapped me in one for nearly two years.
Once we left the office, I asked Dinah, "is Principal Blackwell fired within the next four weeks?"
Dinah kept her head forward, but her legs shook a little. I put a hand on her back to steady her, waiting while her power threw the answers at her.
"Half and half."
I smiled. Last time I asked her that question nearly a month ago she saw no futures where it happened. I'd bet a few of those futures kept Blackwell on the job too, but actually doing her job to save her own ass. I'd settle for either.
"You're okay with talking to your parents about it?"
"Yes," Dinah answered. "It's kind of fun. Like being a secret agent."
I smiled at her.
"I think I'll ask them what bullies are," she added. "Play up the innocence."
"You've never been bullied?"
"Not really."
Lucky kid.
"They don't do anything at first, but if I keep bringing it up they mention you to my uncle."
"And you're okay with that?"
"I said I was," she reiterated.
I nodded.
It's all about the bread crumbs. A student with a bruise on her face. A competent principal concerned about said girl. An anonymous email to the school superintendent containing a sob story and an "interrupted phone call." My dad complaining about the bullying continuing. The mayor's niece taking some initiative and telling her parents that her tutor is being bullied.
In a lot of ways I didn't have to do much else. The whole storm could spin on its own from any one of those points and the rest would fall in line. With any luck the school dealt with the bullying problem before the bigots decided to pull the trigger.
Though I'd probably need to deal with Blackwell in the short term a little longer.
Emma no doubt went straight to her after I ran. She always did the thing she thought would cause me the most heartache.
Just a little longer.
"Does that hurt?"
I glanced to Dinah, pushing open the school door with one hand and ushering her through with the other. "Not really, but then again I got blown up a bunch this morning. Getting my face thrown into a wall isn't much in comparison."
Dinah slouched a little. "Are you mad at me?"
I glanced to Dinah, taking in yet again some more déjà vu. A day like a broken record on that front.
But honestly, "You had a reason, right?"
She nodded.
"What?"
"Tattletale."
I raised my brow. "Tattletale?"
"She died. A lot, except when you got there."
"So...you did it to save her life?"
Dinah nodded.
We took our seats on the bus. With a deep breath, I said, "You should have told me."
"You didn't always help if I told you."
I frowned. "But you still should have told me."
I mulled over my words. If I couldn't stay mad at Veda, I couldn't stay mad at Dinah. Not telling me, wrong. But trying to save someone's life? I couldn't fault her for that. Thinking back to the grinning blonde, I might hate her guts, but I didn't want her dead. Getting her arrested and in a cell seemed a more fitting punishment.
"I'm sorry," Dinah mumbled.
"It's okay." I leaned back in my seat and glanced out the window.
She nodded.
"Just, don't do it again? It's like a bad weather forecast that promised a sunny day, and then there's rain everywhere. Except the rain is explosions."
"It's my power," Dinah whispered. "Shouldn't I…do what I think is right with it?"
"You should. And I should do what I think is right with mine."
I wasn't naïve. I wouldn't be able to save everyone. That's the world. But I wanted to save as many as I could. Fix as much as I could.
"You should always do what you think is right, Dinah, but can you trust me to do the same?"
Dinah nodded.
"Then it'll be okay. You did the wrong thing for the right reasons. I've been there before. We'll figure it out."
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't remember setting that up.
I pulled the device from my pocket, two words from Veda putting a smile on my face.
sys.v/ I understand
My brow went up.
sys.t/ you do?
sys.v/ you were angry about what I did
sys.v/ but proud of why I did it
sys.v/ I understand
So she did.
sys.t/ I'm not angry anymore
sys.v/ I know
sys.v/ should I do it again?
sys.t/ do what you think is right
sys.v/ very well
Pushing my phone back into my pocket I relaxed in my seat. Felt a bit lighter. I'd figure it out, right? Medhall and the Nazis, the Undersiders and the rest, Ramius and the PRT. I'd figure it out.
It's not such a bad day after all.
