Super Powereds: Year 3 (90 page)

                “Well, there you go.” Hershel finished the sequin pattern he was working on and rotated the fabric around, starting on a new section. “Dressing pretty doesn’t technically add anything to your day; you do it because you enjoy it, and you like how it makes you feel. For us, showing up at an event like this in really good costumes makes us feel good, and maybe a little bit admired. There is no greater point. It’s just fun.”

                “To his credit, after being informed of this tradition I did some independent research, and it does indeed seem to be a widespread, if somewhat niche, practice.” Chad was stitching on a shield-shaped patch as he spoke, his needle moving in precise, unerring motions. He didn’t have Hershel’s flair, but the young Super had already proven himself capable of producing quality product. “As I have not yet participated, I cannot validate his claims of it being fun; however, there do seem to be enough documented cases to make it a viable opinion.”

                “If nothing else, I’m enjoying working with everyone on the outfits,” Vince added.

                Alice stared at them for a moment, savoring the ridiculousness of the scene before her. These four boys represented some of the most powerful people in various classes at Lander. Between them, there was enough raw, destructive force to tear apart a city if left unchecked, and yet, here they were, sewing together costumes to wear to a movie premiere. It was enough to make her laugh, until she remembered that there was also a fearsome gravity manipulator sitting on the couch watching them. Was this what the Hero world was like? Bouts of danger interspersed with a ridiculously mundane daily-life? Somehow, she doubted it. Angela was probably right. Once they left Lander, they entered the real world, and it probably wouldn’t be so kind a place as to let them play dress-up for movie showings.

                “When are we going to watch these things, anyway?” Alice rose from the sofa and walked over to where Alex had set down his binder of designs.

                “It almost sounded like you said ‘we’ for a minute there,” Hershel replied, making an effort to mask the grin on his face.

                “That’s because I did, smartass. If you two love these movies this much, then I want to see what all the fuss is about.”

                “We’re going to have a viewing night in three weeks, so you should try to ask off from work soon,” Vince told her. “It’ll be at Nick’s apartment. Alex and Hershel made all kinds of threats about what they’d do if he tried to turn it into a horror movie marathon instead.”

                “After some convincing, I talked Shane and Angela into joining us as well,” Chad added. “Though, only Shane required being talked into joining.”

                Alice snorted under her breath. It would probably take the combined might of everyone to keep Nick in line, and the movies on track. That thought—the idea of bickering with the real Nick, 
her
 Nick—filled her with more joy than she’d expected.

                “Has anyone roped Mary into this yet?” Alice asked.

                “She’s been avoiding us every time it comes up,” Hershel said.

                “Well, leave it to me. If I’m going to spend a weekend night watching old sci-fi movies, Mary is damn sure going to be there to share my pain.”

                “Want us to make you a costume?” Alex asked, finally looking up from his task.

                “Let’s not go overboard; I just agreed to watch the movies. That’s all.” Despite her words, Alice kept on flipping through the design book, taking note of a few outfits that didn’t look entirely horrible. She already knew that, eventually, she would probably cave and join them, but that didn’t mean she was giving in easy.

                Especially not until she’d forced Mary to jump on board too.

167.

               Supper with Supers was slow, business not yet having picked up from the winter break. Sizable as the town was, losing tens of thousands of students who made the pilgrimage home to visit family inevitably led to a downturn in business. It would take a few weeks to pick back up as people settled back in, and there would be a nice boost on Valentine’s Day as last-minute diners realized all the fancier restaurants were already booked. Once spring hit, things would be fully back in swing, and over summer, there would be ample business from children out on summer vacation. None of which changed the fact that, on the first weekend back from break, there were only four tables sat throughout the entire restaurant.

                “Brenda says that if we don’t get anyone in the next half hour, you and I are cut,” Lacey told Vince. They were paired together in a section of the restaurant, one with a single elderly man steadfastly slurping down a bowl of soup.

                “Huh?” Vince blinked and quickly looked at the senior server, trying in vain to hide the fact that he’d been spacing out. “Oh, we’re cut already?”

                “No, I said we will be in half an hour, if we don’t get sat.” Lacey followed the path his eyes had been set on and noticed they were directed right at the hostess stand, where Camille was organizing the menus for what had to be the fourth time this shift. “But way more interesting than that: you were checking out the hostess, weren’t you?”

                “I . . . no, that would be . . . improper . . .” Even if the fumbled words didn’t give him away, the panic in Vince’s eyes would have certainly keyed Lacey into the truth.

                “Relax, I’m not going to tell her or anything. Hell, I’m just glad to see you finally take an interest in someone. You know Brooklyn has been trying to test you out for a couple of months now. For a while, we thought you swung the other way, but you didn’t respond to Juan’s advances either, and that guy is 
smoking
.”

                “I don’t entirely understand what you’re getting at, and I have a sneaking suspicion I’m happier that way,” Vince said.

                “Proving that you’re smarter than that costume makes you look. So, the hostess is your type, huh? Short, smart, shy, quiet; I can see where a lug like you would go for that. Think she digs you back?”

                “I know she does.” Vince was as surprised as Lacey to hear the words come out. He’d held back on talking about it with the others, even with Dr. Moran, because, in the scope of everything else they dealt with, it just seemed so ridiculous a thing to worry over. With Lacey, it was different. She was mundane, and so was this issue. It didn’t seem so crazy to open up to her.

                “She told me how she felt before break, told me to take my time sorting out my own feelings. Camille hasn’t pushed the issue, but I’ve felt strange around her ever since, like the more I see her, the more she’ll expect an answer.”

                “From your laser-vision a few seconds ago, I bet I could put in a pretty good wager about how you feel,” Lacey replied.

                “Yeah . . . I do like Camille. She’s smart, tough, courageous; she’s amazing. But I also have this . . . ex from a long time ago. I’ve been trying to get over her for years. In fact, I think my feelings for her soured my last relationship. I was making good progress, but then she popped back up a few months ago, and now I don’t know what I feel. I just . . . it doesn’t seem right to drag Camille into this if I’m not sure about my feelings. I don’t want to hurt her.”

                “Let me ask you something, does our hostess know about any of this? Like, at all?” Lacey brushed a rogue hair out of her face, knocking her mask slightly askew, which she immediately readjusted. Brenda was a cool boss, but she was harsh about keeping in costume.

                “All of it. I’ve known her for years now, and I tell her pretty much everything.” Vince chanced a quick glance toward their only customer, who was still slowly putting down the soup, spoonful after spoonful.

                “Just making sure.” Lacey reached toward Vince’s face, as though she were about to straighten his hair. At the last minute, she pressed her middle finger to her thumb and flicked Vince directly in the nose.

                “Ouch!” Vince grabbed the wounded appendage as his eyes reflexively watered. “What the heck?”

                “Stop being a big dumb-dumb. If the girl likes you, complications and all, then it’s not your job to protect her from bad outcomes. She’s an adult. She can make her own choices about the risks she’s willing to take, and it sounds like she’s decided you’re worth it. Not sure I get why, but we all have our own tastes.”

                “But—”

                “No. No buts. Feelings are messy. If you’re waiting around for the perfect situation, where no one has anything on the line, then you’re going to die alone and probably with a massively swollen forearm. Newsflash: every relationship a person has ends in failure, save for one. Maybe two if you count getting remarried after they kick off, but the point is, we all go in with a ninety-whatever percent failure rate. It’s just like when you were learning this job; you screwed things up until you started getting them right. If you really want the girl, and she still wants you even knowing the score, then you’re not holding back out of goodness or decency. You’re doing it out of fear.”

                Vince rubbed his nose as Lacey finished her speech, topping it off with the same wide smile she used to greet the customers. “You might have a point,” he admitted after a few minutes.

                “See, I told the other trainers you were teachable.” Lacey patted him on the arm and glanced at the lone table. “I’m going to go get the water pitcher and top off Mr. Soup. You do whatever you think is best.”

                Vince watched her head off toward the back, still momentarily dumbfounded at the harsh truths she’d laid on him. Lacey might not be able to run faster than a car, or lift a bus, but she definitely had knowledge and skills that he was lacking in. And if there was one thing that life at Lander had taught him, it was to accept lessons wherever they came from. He turned and walked down the carpet, past the other sections, arriving at the hostess stand facing the empty lobby.

                “I can’t give you the next table,” Camille said, glancing up from a dry-erase diagram of the restaurant. “There are way too many others ahead of you.”

                “Actually, I think we’re getting cut soon anyway,” Vince said. “But that wasn’t what I came over for. I wanted to tell you that Alex and Hershel are putting together this big outing in a couple of weeks for a movie premiere. It’s going to be fun, I think, and I’d really like it if you came along.”

                “Sure, I’ll pitch the idea to Thomas and Violet,” Camille replied.

                “That’s great, and they’re more than welcome to join us. Just know, though, I really want
you
to come. I . . . it just won’t be the same if you’re not there.”

                “Oh.” Camille turned back to her menus and diagram, willing herself not to turn into a tomato. “Yeah. Count me in.”

168.

               Alice took a deep breath, emptying her mind of stress, fear, and expectations. That last one was the most difficult, given what she was here to do, but she hadn’t spent the last few months working on meditation training with Mary for nothing. She tried to push at the boundaries of her mind, opening up the pathways. According to the texts they’d read, this was supposed to “open one up to the cosmic energies of the universe,” which she took to be new-age bullshit. It did, however, make it easier for someone with mental powers to access her mind, and that was something she very much wanted to achieve.

                She felt the presence on the outskirts of her mind; it took willpower to not reflexively shove it away. This one had a different sensation than Mary’s entrances, which had grown so familiar during their training that the two barely had to work at it anymore. No, this was older, stronger, and somehow more distant. Somewhere, in the physical body she’d dulled her awareness of, Professor Stone was still holding her hand, pushing her awareness through the connection between them. For a time—it was impossible to say how long—that was all there was: a lingering presence on the outskirts of her mind.

                Her first hint of change was when she felt a pull coming from somewhere in her memories. Alice’s awareness drifted through them, weaving throughout her first year at Lander, trying not to cringe at the entitled debutante she’d once been. The trip was mercifully short; as she plunged into the second year, she began to slow down. She saw their first meeting as a team, and the scavenger hunt Nick had sent them on. She saw the team trial, felt the surge of pride that had run through her as she grabbed the enemy’s flag. Then it was Halloween, and she was creeping along. The horror house, being separated, and ending up at a table with Nick, Mary, and Rich. Time slowed even more as Rich banged on the table, their eyes turning to his. As she fell into his gaze and the world began to shift, the progress stopped entirely.

                “Are you ready?” Professor Stone asked. She was standing at the edge of the table, a place she hadn’t been the first time around, waiting patiently for Alice to respond.

                “As I’ll ever be.”