Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain (25 page)

“Toybox. I like my adorable armies,” Claire answered.

Ray’s turn. “Junkyard. There’s always a new combination.”

“Candy?” I hazarded. It was a little harder to be glib while seeing the room through Apparition’s transparent head.

“I’m a Candy player, too!” Apparition squealed. She let go of my shoulders and sank back into her dark corner with a heavy sigh. “Not as often as I like. I’ve only gotten to play a few times. I can’t touch a computer without possessing someone first.”

Claire did the curious head tilt. “I would think you’d like Toybox for the tricks.”

That got a giggle. Okay, a wistful giggle, but Apparition clearly liked talking about this. I couldn’t blame her. Who doesn’t love discussing their Teddy Bears and Machine Guns strategy? “That’s the beauty of it. I win with Toybox and Junkyard. Candy builds up so fast I can push an early raid, but instead of trying to do damage I steal parts with Want Some Candy, and then use my raiding force to fight off the other side while I build. It’s risky, but if it works I crush them with their own powers!”

Claire hmmed. “I’ve tried to do that with Wind Up Keys, but if I devote that much time to building them, someone rolls over me.” Motion caught my eye. Cy beckoned me with a finger. He held up the notepad he’d been copying my formula onto.

Chimera stepped away from the wall, and addressed Ray. “Hey, Reviled. How long have you had your powers? You gotten into Parkour yet?”

“Wait! Wait wait wait wait wait,” Apparition interrupted us all, floating out into the middle of the room and holding out her hands. She looked over her shoulder at Lucyfar, who’d fallen back into her recliner again. “Is today Saturday?”

That yanked Lucyfar up. “We should take them to Chinatown,” she announced.

“Yes,” Chimera and Cybermancer agreed together.

“I don’t think we have the time,” Claire half-answered.

She was right. Besides, they were so gleeful, it freaked me out. I tried to sound apologetic. “If we don’t get home before dark, our secret identities are busted.”

“We’ll go tomorrow!” Lucyfar offered, leaning forward out of her chair with a look of, well, demonic eagerness.

The Apparition slapped it off of her. Literally, although I didn’t know what that spectral hand across the cheek actually felt like. Lucy’s head did recoil maybe an inch, but the blow didn’t make any sound. “We’re making them feel pressured, Lucy. They’re cool, but they’re kids, and the community is brand new to them. They’re not even used to being supervillains yet.” She looked straight at me and added, “I’m sorry, but it’s pretty obvious.”

Lucyfar raised her hands. “Okay, okay. We’ll let them bow out gracefully just this once. Maybe later.” She gave Claire a wink, and added, “I know I’ll be seeing you. The Inscrutable Machine is welcome here any time. Especially weekends.”

I looked at Claire and Ray. They nodded, although I wasn’t quite sure what question I’d asked or what they’d answered. Ray opened the door, standing on the other side and bowing deeply. “Ladies,” he offered with an outstretched arm.

Claire and I hurried out into the arcade. Just on the other side of the door, I glanced back. The Apparition was closest to us. She’d floated nearer the door.

I lowered my voice as far as I could without being drowned out by the arcade’s noise. “I’m sorry I asked about your origin. It can’t be a fun topic. It was thoughtless of me.”

“You’re not sure which side you’re on yet. It’s written all over your face. Trust me, Bad Penny, you just proved you’re meant to be a supervillain,” came the breathy reply.

I nodded to that, turned around, and scurried a few quick steps to catch up to my friends. What could I have said? I thought I’d just proven the opposite!

Ray pulled off his bird mask, then suddenly slapped his other hand over his face. “I was talking to Lucyfar, and I didn’t get her autograph.”

Claire grinned wickedly, and leaned in to give him a nudge with her whole body. “Pretty soon, they’ll be asking to trade.”

ended up taking the Red Line most of the way back. There was no way I could manage biking all the way from downtown, even with the teleport rings. My serum-enhanced best friends, on the other hand, were fresh and eager to return to their homes the hard way. Claire giddily assured me before gliding away that a girl skating down the street in teddy bear pajamas got photographed by everyone.

I wasn’t mad, but I really wished I’d saved a couple of drops of serum for myself by the time I pedaled up to my parents’ driveway. I pushed my bike into the empty garage and hoped my knees weren’t visibly wobbly. With the car gone, my parents might be out and it might be moot. I slid the teleport bracelets into my pockets anyway.

I’d just stepped into the kitchen when Dad leaned out of his workshop and looked down the hall at me. “Hey, Pumpkin! You look tired.”

Yes, I bet I looked tired. From his casually cheerful tone, he didn’t have an inkling why. “Yeah. We ended up going down to the library,” I acknowledged. Telling ninety percent of the truth had worked for me so far.

He tapped away at his phone instead of answering me, so when he did look up it was to explain, “Just sending your mother a message that you’re home and she had nothing to worry about.”

This was Dad and not Mom, and I was all the way down the hall. I could get away with, “Why would she be worried? Nobody attacks three kids on the subway in the middle of the day.”

“The Inscrutable Machine defeated a couple of sidekicks again this morning,” Dad answered me.

I’d known he knew. I just still didn’t know what to say about it. “Already?”

Apparently, I sounded nervous.

“They move fast. Gabriel was there, and he videotaped it for his internet project. Come back here, and I’ll show you the footage. That might take all your fears away,” he called down.

I couldn’t refuse. I padded down the hall and into his laboratory. He’d rearranged his equipment with an ease that made envy nibble at my gut. What was this plastic machine with all the readouts arranged around a big cylindrical tank? What was the not-quite-clear green liquid inside? I smelled chlorine, but my power didn’t react.

Dad lifted up and put back down his keyboard and mouse, then cleared the screen of the programs linked to the new machine. Instead he brought up a video file, “TIM2c,” appropriately enough.

“Trust me, Pumpkin. This will make you feel better.” I couldn’t see how watching a recording of my own supervillainy with my father could make me less nervous, but I didn’t have any good excuses. I grabbed a pen and wrote “P Jar – II” on a sheet of paper by his keyboard as the video sprang up.

The video was terrible. What was that white mess I was looking at? Over a lot of rustling a girl said something about gang wars. What a snotty voice. Then another girl answered her, and, as hard as it was to make out the words, the two seemed to be in a competition for who could be most sarcastic. In fact, I caught the words “quality sarcasm time”—

Wait, was that me? Was that what I sounded like? In answer, the white mess of a wing cleared away. Gabriel was watching from the roof, back out of my range of vision like an actually serious superhero. I got to watch Marcia answer, and I could clearly make out the words “quiet and appreciative when you give your villainous monologues.” What a lousy video. It didn’t sound like her at all.

Marcia made her comment about not being outnumbered, and the parking lot disappeared in favor of roof asphalt as Gabriel crept around some more. People talked low. I couldn’t make out the words, until I caught “Gabriel” and I heard Gabriel sigh into the microphone. The view jolted as he stood up, then jumped lightly down, drifting to the thumping of his six wings until he settled on the pavement of the parking lot. Oh, geez. That was me and Ray. My jumpsuit looked like stormtrooper armor from this side.

And then, “Gabriel! I read your blog! What are you doing here?!” squealed deafeningly out of the video, and rather than a superhero/supervillain battle, I found myself watching the Girl in a Bear Suit Show.

I stared. I was being treated to what should have been a close-up of Claire as she and Gabriel chatted, but it wasn’t. Who was this girl? Claire didn’t have a dimple. I’d been seeing Claire’s smile most of our lives, and she didn’t.

Or did she, with her power turned up high? What exactly did she look like then? All I could remember were eyes and a mouth, those oh-so-serious expressions she was giving Gabriel now.

You little vixen, Claire. You knew all along your secret identity was completely safe. Your Mom must have known as well. You little shape-changing vixen.

My mouth was hanging open. I closed it, and unwound The Machine from my wrist to cover my embarrassment. Dad read that his own way. “This is why I wanted you to see this. Your mother and a lot of the adult community are having fits, but for no reason. Gabriel saw it immediately. These kids aren’t evil. They’ll pick fights with other supers until they lose. Until then, maybe they can teach our children this isn’t a game. Watch what happens next.”

Dad had been chatting away over top of Claire and Gabriel, but Claire hadn’t been able to hold Gabriel’s attention entirely. I saw Ray and Miss A (even though I knew who she was, she didn’t much look like Marcia on video) going at it like a Kung Fu movie. Just like a Kung Fu movie, where Miss A started out throwing all the attacks at first with Ray in retreat, until slowly it turned exactly the other way. Every time she’d swing or kick he’d lunge past it, and all she could do was fall back.

Then Ifrit twisted his hands around and a cylinder of flame roared up around the girl in the armor. Me. Ifrit and Gabriel argued about the situation casually.

“Ifrit’s not trying very hard, is he? I think Miss A’s trying to kill the boy she’s fighting,” I suggested. I’d been there, so I had some idea of how Ifrit was fouling up. Watching it had me twisting The Machine around in my hands until it crawled around them with hyperactive energy.

“That’s it exactly. He assumes he’s caught her. Miss A’s lost her temper and Ifrit is overconfident and not giving this his all. Watch what happens to both of them.” Man, Dad sounded calm and professional.

I watched myself step out of the flames and nail Ifrit’s foot to the floor with my static gloves. I’d felt like a cow in the exchange that followed, but from here it was obviously Ifrit who couldn’t dodge, couldn’t do anything but get smacked in the back of the head as Reviled waltzed past. Miss A was way too mad to avoid getting blasted.

All that was left was a lot of banter. Dad talked over it. “A lot of our tools and powers in superheroing are tricks, Penny. Those gloves glued Ifrit’s foot to the ground. Ifrit’s fire cage is hard to get out of. Half of martial arts is supplying someone small like Miss A with trick moves that put her opponent at a disadvantage. If you figure a way around those tricks, they become liabilities. When it’s you out there one day, pay more attention to your defenses than your weapons, so you’ll have a chance to escape anything. Then when you have the advantage, press it. Don’t assume you’re going to win until your opponent is immobilized, and even then watch him.”

My Dad was giving me supervillain advice and didn’t know it. Great. The Machine squirmed as I gripped it guiltily, staring at him. The video ended, and Dad peered behind the monitor, then into the cord-strewn chaos behind his desk.