I pwn, but I don't own. Only what you don't recognize is mine, blah blah blah Ke$ha.
FRIDAY, Oct. 28, 2011
The next morning, I wake up annoyingly early. I groan and slowly roll out of bed. I splash my face with cool water and run my brush through my hair before putting on my fuzzy pink bathrobe and trudging out of my room, down the hall, and to the elevator. When I arrive on the third level, I make my way to Bruce's bedroom. Maybe I can talk to him before work?
I knock softly on his door. "Bruce?" I whisper. When I don't hear a response, I push open the door and step into his room. I don't see him in his bed. I exit to go downstairs, but I bump into Bruce instead.
"Oh, hello there," I greet in a sugar-coated tone. "I was just hoping I could talk to you…"
"About what?" he asks.
"Well… I was talking to my friend who lives in California- her name is Zoey- and I- we- were wondering if she could come and visit and that she could maybe possibly stay here at the manor…?" I smile sweetly and bat my eyes. It usually worked with my parents.
"I-it would only be for about a week, maybe," I quickly conclude, "and she could stay in my room. 'Cause there would be less of a mess to clean up and be cooler and feel more like a sleepover in that awesome stay-up-until-three-in-the-morning way. But I'm not saying we'll always stay up till three… only sometimes." I smile toothily.
"When would this be?"
"During winter break. Maybe over New Year's Eve. Pleeeaaase?" I stick out my bottom lip.
"Hmmm… I'll give you my decision by dinner time."
You mean you'll actually be eating dinner with me and Alfred? I think.
"Okay," I say, feeling somewhat disappointed, but still a little bit hopeful.
"Well, I should probably be off to work now. I'll see you later tonight."
"Okay. Good-bye." I shuffle closer to Bruce and give him a hug. After about a second, I feel him hug back, somewhat awkwardly. I pull away and scurry back to the elevator without looking back.
When I'm back in my room, I grab my phone and flop on my bed.
ME: He says he'll decide l8r.
ZOEY: K. Mom said she's OK w/ it. Just needs Bruce's approval.
I sigh and grab a book to read. It is going to be a long day, waiting for Bruce's decision.
I eventually get dressed and meander downstairs to get some food. After that, I laze around, just watching television or going on Facebook or reading.
At about six o'clock, I'm watching an old Supernatural episode when Alfred summons me. "Miss Andromeda, could I see you for a minute?"
"Uh, sure," I respond with just a hint of uncertainty. I turn off the TV and follow the butler out of the room and down to the ground floor. He leads me into a small room.
It's a study, with a small bookshelf, a grandfather clock, and a desk and swivel chair taking up the wall to my right. The wall opposite the door is taken up by a larger bookshelf and candle holders attached to the wall. A puffy maroon overstuffed chair faces the wall to my left, which has a fireplace built into it. Above the fireplace is an oil painting of an old photograph my foster mother and father. The image is of them standing together, hugging, gazing out.
"I… I don't know what to say," I stammer quietly. "Well, thank you, I guess. But still…"
"I'm glad you find it to your liking," Alfred replies.
My friends' deaths made me pissed, but this is crossing the line. What if Zucco is involved in the murders? "Some day, I'll find Zucco. I'll make him pay."
Alfred doesn't say anything except for: "We should prepare for dinner. Maybe Master Bruce will be joining us…"
"Maybe I'll grow a third arm," I retort sarcastically.
That night, I contact Zoey through my webcam.
"What did he say about me coming over?" she asks.
"It's fine, as long as I keep my grades up. That shouldn't be too hard, though, considering I'm from an alien planet where the technology is millenniums beyond where Earth will be in fifty years."
Zoey smirks. "So when will you be entering school?"
"Next semester, so I have quite a while, actually. Alfred's homeschooling me right now. You know what..." I trail off, looking at the clock at the bottom of the computer screen. Nine o'clock.
"Wait here for a minute." I stand up and dash out of my room to Bruce's study. When I arrive, he is nowhere to be found. Of course. As I jog back to my room, I pass Alfred. "Do you know where Bruce is?" I ask.
"I'm sorry, Miss Andromeda, but he is at an important meeting at work," the English butler explains. "He called to say it's running late and he won't be home for another twenty minutes."
"Okay." Slightly disappointed, I hurry back to my room and see Zoey fidgeting onscreen. "Never mind. Sorry."
"What were you planning?" She raises her eyebrow.
"I was thinking that Bruce and your mom could talk about the trip over the video feed. But he isn't home- another late-night meeting," I finish with disgust and annoyance.
"Another one?"
"Yup. So much for father-daughter bonding time. But get this- he actually ate dinner with me and Al."
My best friend gasps over-dramatically. "Shocking!"
"Right?"
"Wait. Doesn't he have another ward? Some boy?"
"Yeah. Dick Grayson. Why?"
"Where is he? You've never mentioned him."
"Oh. He's in Europe, visiting relatives. He'll be back in like, a week or two. Something like that."
"I wonder if he's cute..." Zoey smirks, her eye twinkling.
I chuckle. "How awkward would that be if I thought so?"
"Right?"
MONDAY, Oct. 31, 2011
That day, Bruce and I go downtown at about four-thirty and just kind of wander around. It's a bit awkward. I don't feel like going into any of the shops (strange, for me), but walking around in the crisp autumn air is refreshing. We stop at a Starbucks to get hot chocolate. When we enter, some of the costumers (okay, most of the costumers) glance our way and lower their voices. I nervously fidget with the sleeve of my black trench coat. If I focus my hearing enough, I can catch snippets of their conversations.
"Look- it's Bruce Wayne..."
"...with that girl he took in..."
"...Andromeda, I think..."
"...parents died..."
"...already has a ward..."
I pull out my iPhone and go onto Facebook. I'd already posted about the events that had taken place after my parents' deaths, and I had gotten twenty comments within the next thirty minutes. A lot of them were condolences, and much of them were people freaking out over Bruce Wayne's decision of adopting me.
I tap the box to type my status in and post, "Out w/ Bruce. So. Many. Stares!" before slipping the device back into the front right pocket of my jeans. We get to the counter, and I order a small peppermint hot chocolate while Bruce settles for a medium white chocolate mocha. It doesn't really make anything better when the person behind the counter shouts out, "TALL PEPPERMINT HOT CHOCOLATE AND MEDIUM WHITE CHOCOLATE MOCHA FOR BRUCE WAYNE!" at the top of his lungs.
I'm tempted to make a snide remark, but the quietness of the store reminds me: every little move matters. So instead, I smile and grab the warm cup before turning to exit. Before Bruce and I can leave, we hear a deep voice call, "Bruce!"
We turn around and see a man in a navy suit walk towards us, careful not to spill his hot drink. His dark hair is gelled back, and a pair of glasses sit on his nose. He's handsome, with his strong jaw and bright eyes. He looks a bit familiar, even though I'm sure I've never seen him before. He smiles, revealing perfect teeth.
"Clark!" Bruce greets. "How are you?"
"I'm doing fine, what about you?"
"Good, too."
Clark turns to me. "Who's this?"
"This is my ward, Andromeda Sims."
"Hey," I smile slightly. "Andy, please."
Clark returns the smile. "How do you like living with Bruce so far?"
During the conversation, we've exited Starbucks and are now walking along East Main Street. I hesitate when Clark asks me the question. How do I… okay, seriously?
"It's… different," I admit. I sense Bruce grow slightly irritated. I reach for his hand, and he relaxes. Magic touch, or what? I've finished my hot chocolate, so I toss the cup into a nearby trash can. "Can we stop at Ruby's? I'm hungry."
Bruce looks down at me. "But you just had a hot chocolate. Aren't you full?"
"I'm a thirteen-year-old girl. I'm never full." I bat my eyelashes.
Clark and Bruce chuckle.
Five minutes later, the three of us are sitting in a booth towards the back of the diner. A waitress struts over and asks through chomps on her bubble gum, "Wouldjya like to order?"
"Yes," I answer. "Could I get a cheeseburger- with cheddar- and a small Mountain Dew?"
"Sure, sweetie." She takes my menu and turns to Clark. "Anything for you, sir?"
"No thank you."
"And you, sir?"
"I'm good," my guardian replies. "Thank you."
After the waitress leaves, Clark says, "Bruce, I need to talk to you."
"I'm guessing this is my cue to exit stage right," I comment, switching to the next booth. I take my paper placemat with me, but glare at the crayons already set on the table. Deciding to put off drawing, I pull out my phone again and speed-dial Zoey. It's around three PM there, so I don't have to worry about her being in school.
"Hello?" I hear the feminine voice on the other end of the line ask.
"Yo, Zo." I greet her enthusiastically, but I keep my voice quiet.
"Howzit goin?"
"Good." I gaze somberly out the window. "It's really cloudy over here, pretty dark for six o'clock. A storm's coming."
The line is silent, giving the statement a greater sense of darkness and foreboding than intended.
"Ohmygawd, I cannot wait for winter break! I can't believe that he actually said 'yes!'"
"I know, right? I had a hard time believing it, too. Okay, I've never been on the East Coast during Christmas before, but I heard that it's wonderful here. You might find it really cool. Maybe me, too, even though I'm technically Jewish." We giggle.
"So how's the alien thing-" she starts, but I cut her off.
"Not talking. Public place. Never know…" I look up. "There's a… I'll text you. Bye." I hang up and immediately open my text messages and fire one to Zoey:
ME: Clark Kent. Idk who he is.
ZOEY: Reporter 4 Daily Planet. Dad luvs his articles.
ME: Talkin w/ B. Looks vaguely familiar, bt I've never seen him b4.
ZOEY: U sure?
ME: Ya.
ZOEY: OH! I kno y!
ME: Ya?
ZOEY: Deja vu. Glitch in the Matrix. Dayumn!
I giggle to myself at the joke. I look up and see Bruce and Clark in a heated discussion, no doubt about adopting me. After replying "Lolzzz" to Zoey, I eavesdrop on their conversation.
"…neglecting League duties…" League duties? Like, a business or corporation league? If they even have those.
"…see that I'm busy now, Kent…"
"…getting distracted during an important meeting like that isn't like you…"
"…needs someone to care for her, can't you see that…"
I could somehow tell that they were arguing over me. Is Bruce's business really that demanding? I open a message to Bruce.
ME: Stop arguing. )-; both of u. Yes, it's easy to tell- I'm not blind.
I see Bruce take out his phone and look back apologetically at me, but I am too engrossed in a round of Fruit Ninja to see.
My food arrives, and I grin at the waitress and say, "Thanks."
"Enjoy," she winks.
ME: I g2g. Txt u soon. Byye ily 3 x1000 xoxo & all tht gushy stuff!
ZOEY: Ya. Txt u soon! Byye!
I return my phone to its pocket and dig in. The food is great, and when I'm done, I return to my spot next to Bruce in his booth. I tear the paper place mat in half hamburger-style and take one of the pieces with me.
"May I borrow your pencil?" I ask Clark with the sweetest tone I can muster up.
"Of course." He pulls out a black mechanical pencil and hands it to me. "How come?"
I take the pencil and look at the reporter thoughtfully. "See that clock behind me? On the wall, above the counter there."
He tilts his chin up, glancing at the clock. "Yeah?"
"Good." I look down and start sketching. His head was turned for barely a second, but that's all I need. Thank you, photographic memory. I rapidly shift my gaze between Clark and my sketch, trying to take as much in as I can. At one point, I stare so intensely at him that he almost flinches under my scrutinizing eyes. The curl of his hair, his strong jaw, and inquisitive eyes remind me how much I miss drawing. This is the first sketch I've done in my new life.
Clark and Bruce stare at me, even after I've set the pencil down and whispered, "Done." The waitress, who came to drop off the bill, grows wide-eyed when she sees the sketch.
"You related to Van Gogh by any chance?" she asks.
For some reason, I strongly doubt that. *cough* ALIEN.
The diner scene was inspired by a passage from "A Growing Robin" by Fighter1357. In case you're wondering, I asked the author about it and they were totally cool! Go check out Fighter1357's page- this author has great stories!
In case you're wondering, no I did not forget about Andy being an alien with powers. Those scenes are coming shortly!