SuperNova: Heroes of Arcania (7 page)

I nodded at Henry’s question. “I think so. I’m definitely better than I have been the last few weeks.”

“What changed?”

My eyes fell to my hands in my lap. “Nothing specific really, I guess I just realize that I have to move on one way or another. Might as well try and look forward to it.”

Henry didn’t sound as though he completely believed my excuse for a new outlook on life, but surprised me with his next question. “Will you ever want to tell me what happened? Obviously you don’t have to, but it beats paying a shrink.”

“You may have a point,” I admitted, “but I’m not ready. I’m not saying never, but not now. Fortune is…terrifying and I believe his threats.”

Henry’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Are you worried about the future?”

I considered the question. “I am, but not for the reasons you might think.”
 

“What do you mean?”

I met his brown eyes, so full of concern and loyalty. I was headed towards that territory again, the one that told Henry my one big secret.
The lies will get bigger with nights in the city.
I opened my mouth to tell him, the words trying to spill out. Then an image of Fortune standing over my sister’s small body flashed in my mind.
 

My breath hitched and instead, I gave him a small smile. “Ya know, all that talk at school whenever my name is mentioned. How am I supposed to make friends or meet dudes when all they do is ask about last spring?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not that superficial, but I’ll play along. I’ll help you meet people. Kevin told me there’s a new family in town. Brother and sister start school with us in a couple days.”

“How do you already know this stuff?”

Henry shrugged. “I’m a reporter. It’s my job to know these things. Plus I have great connections in the administration department.”

I held back a laugh. “So about these new kids?”

“Guy’s a senior with us. Sister’s a junior. Hope she’s hot.”

I waggled my eyebrows at him. “Maybe I make friends with the new girl for you.”

“I don’t need your help,” he said with a grin. He had so much confidence he usually won everyone over. “But maybe I can introduce you to the brother. I know how chicken you are when it comes to guys, I’ll be your wingman.”

“Only if he’s cute,” I said automatically, but I got that nervous tingle of hope when I considered it. What if the new guy was someone cute? I could convince him that I was fun and witty and…

Wait
. That was how old Nova thought. The Nova who wanted boys and popularity; things that didn’t mean much to me now. I had a purpose and I didn’t want to become distracted by anything or anyone.
 

The only guy I’m chasing after is Fortune.

When my parents got home and we sat together at dinner, I decided now was as good a time as any to throw my idea out. I cleared my throat. “I have a request to make.”

Both of them set their silverware down. They looked more serious than I’d anticipated, my dad shooting Mom a look. Maybe they thought I’d announce my new evening activities.
 

“I’ve been thinking…well, no one is in that suite downstairs. There’s a bathroom and I could maybe make it like my own space with my desk and bookcase.”

My mom raised an eyebrow but they looked slightly relieved. I rushed through the next part of my convincing speech. “I stay down there all the time now anyways. Plus that additional entrance would help with my, ah, hours. With evening study groups and stuff.”

“You want your own apartment without having to move,” my mom suddenly teased me. The light voice startled me, not having it heard it in months.
 

“Well, it would be nice if I have to go to the library or stay out late, I wouldn’t have to worry about waking you up.”

“You could always have study groups here with your friends. There’s plenty of space and they could always stay over if you study too late,” my mom jumped in.

“No boys overnight,” Dad added quickly.
 

“Really? I can do it?”

They traded another look, but this one was — dare I say it? — happy. Mom nodded. “I think it’s a good idea.”
 

I hardly recognized the giddiness that came over me at the thought of my own girl-cave. “Thank you! I’ll move everything tomorrow. I’ll use the bed and dresser in the room since it’s all kinda the same. Obviously I don’t have to do much to the downstairs but get my desk in there.”

“I’ll help you do that part tonight. Then tomorrow you can arrange everything like you want it,” Dad suggested.

“Within reason,” my mom warned. “No posters on my new paint.”

“No, it’s fine the way it is. Thanks! I think it will help me, ya know? To not be upstairs anymore.”

They gave me a sad look but nodded. I didn’t open up much to them anymore, not since the medication. They didn’t want to push me. Dad gave a small cough. I turned to him and he hesitated. He absentmindedly tapped the table before finally speaking.
 

“I’ll move my office up here. Turn your room into the guest room. I can have everything on the first floor, avoid the pain on my knees.”

He meant so none of us had to go up there ever again. No longer than to change the guest bed sheets and show said guest their room. Never open Starling’s bedroom door to see her things exactly as she left them that day. Would we freeze her memory there forever, until I moved away and they sold it or died? Her dolls lying in a mixture of unicorn ponies, the bed made by enthusiastic nine-year-old hands, colorful drawings of rainbows and stick figure families…we would never let her go.
 

I nodded, a mark that made our silent agreement to enshrine my little sister’s life. It was a sign from Dad for sure, to offer moving his entire office (no easy task) upstairs to offer me the entire floor. Maybe they had expected me to eventually make this request. Or maybe they wanted to give me more freedom, even suspected I would want to sneak out to find Fortune. My mom probably just wanted me to have friends over and break this funk surrounding Starling’s death.

After dinner, true to their word, Dad helped me move—I could’ve easily carried the heavy desk up myself, but needed help with navigating corners. Mom even pitched in and helped move clothes down to the giant walk-in closet. When she grabbed my hamper, I worried she’d see the ripped black shirt. Luckily, it’d been stuffed down to the bottom.
 

As I looked around at the new space that was now mine, I looked at my father’s office. I could make it my new study room, or even better, a space with which to dedicate my new secret life. My dad never used the weights or treadmill down here anymore; I could move them to that room and train. Or at the very least, do some yoga and push-ups or get one of those giant boxing buddies to practice my swing.

Over the next few days, I helped Dad move his office out, quickly taking over with my own things. In went the treadmill and weights, my notebooks and pens. I watched hours of online videos depicting how to throw punches and defend myself. I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, printing out and tacking papers up to a bulletin board. I highlighted points of interest, circled possible locations on a city map, and jammed them onto the cork. Any newspaper or blog articles, any hint of Fortune went up on that board. I snagged my dad’s giant flip board he used for trials. My neat handwriting filled nearly every inch of space. I brooded over it each night, adding my own notes and theories to the small pile of information.

There was no rhyme, no reason. Fortune seemed to attack at random, the banks having no connection other than the fact they were banks. Cameras were off and witnesses gave little information. He didn’t even attack on the same days or times, each one scattered throughout the calendar. There was no way to plan for him, no chance to warn others of his arrival.
 

No way to win either, it seemed.
 

A few days later, I stared up at my high school’s front doors. The sprawling two-story building loomed overhead, kids rushing up the stairs to get to their classrooms. Knots formed in my stomach at the idea of walking back inside.
 

“It’s going to be fine,” I muttered. “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

“What are you mumbling?” Henry asked.
 

He stood next to me, adjusting his backpack straps while looking around for other students we knew. He nudged me and I shuffled along next to him. We’d officially stepped back on campus, which meant senior year had begun. I only wanted to get through the day without throwing up from sheer nerves.

I didn’t know what to expect. I’d heard from a handful of friends over the summer, mostly offers for afternoon movies or lunches at our local deli. Even my close friend Amber and I had lost touch once she got busy with her activities and internship. The way I figured, after last spring, no one thought I’d take up party invitations, so I didn’t get one. I didn’t blame them—I doubted I’d be much fun anyways.
 

“Hello? Nova? I thought you were off the happy pills?” Henry asked, waving his hand in front of my face.

I snapped out of my daze to look around. Our classmates rushed around, loudly catching up about vacations and summer jobs. Teachers chatted from their doorways, waved to passing students. I winced at a particularly loud locker slam and saw Henry still waiting on my answer.

“Sorry. Yeah, I’m off the happy pills. I’m telling myself to gut through it. Today, I mean.”

“Why the pep talk?”

“You know how much everyone gossips.”

“It’s been what, six months? No way they’re still talking about you,” he said, giving a pretty brunette girl a broad smile. She blushed and his grin stayed on as we continued down the hallway.

“What was that about?” I asked incredulously.
 

He gave an exaggerated shrug, his tone mocking. “We’re seniors now. I know the ins and outs of this place and its people. I’m a big fish in a small pond.”

My nose wrinkled. “Henry, that’s really unbecoming. You better enjoy the next year of school because after that, you get to start over. See, I’m biding my time. College is when I’ll really hit the scene of excitement and personality.”

“Shut up, you’ve got plenty of personality.” Henry dodged a gaggle of freshmen eyeing him from their lockers. “Let’s get to first period.”

“Hey, yeah, at least we have three classes together this semester. That’s pretty great.” I made sure to sound enthusiastic, because I really was glad I’d automatically have a partner if need be. Henry was happy because he knew I’d help him with his homework.
 

“You heard that Andy Vicker dumped Mandy last week, right?” Henry asked me as we slid into our desk chairs for homeroom. I grabbed a notebook and pencil out of my messenger bag on the floor.

“I don’t think I knew they were dating.” I began doodling mask ideas on paper, considering different shapes and fits.
Nothing tight over the nose, I need to breathe
.
 

“Back at the start of the summer.”

I snorted. “Mandy and Andy. Adorable.”
 

“Rumor is she hooked up with a lifeguard at the country club,” Henry said, as though confiding a secret. I felt his eyes on me and looked up. He shrugged, but it felt like he was fishing for something. The extended pause confirmed it.