Not Your Sidekick (16 page)

“What? No way, they wouldn't do that. Why would they cover up that Gravitus used to be a hero?”

“No idea. Do you want me to come over? I've got something to show you if you're interested in this stuff.”

Jess looks at the time. It's almost dinnertime, and she usually tries to shoo Emma and Bells out the door before her parents get all awkward with them, but her curiosity is getting the better of her.

“Sure, you can come over,” Jess says.

She looks at herself and considers changing out of her school outfit. Would it be too obvious if she changed into something more flattering? Abby would probably notice, and then Jess would be all out of luck.

Jess looks at her crumpled T-shirt and jeans: there's a stain from the dismal school spaghetti on her shirtfront.

Okay, changing it is.

She digs through her closet, pushes aside things that are too formal and clothes that don't fit anymore, grabs a few options. She tries on shirt after shirt.

This shirt's V-neck dips too low, and Jess blushes at how much cleavage shows; this shirt is out. She picks another tank top and throws over it a loose-fitting lace top, an impulse buy she's never worn; no, she can't pull this off. Jess scowls and finally settles on the last clean, and normal-ish shirt of hers—the “Master Mischief Was Right About the Cheese” graphic tee.

Ugh, she should have called Emma; she's always good at whipping up outfits from whatever's around.

The doorbell rings, and Jess races past her mother, who is just standing up from her chair in the office. “I got it, I got it!” Jess hurls herself down the stairs and flings the door open. “Hi,” she says, breathlessly.

“Hey, Jess.” Abby's changed from her school outfit, too, and looks comfortable in an old AHHS volleyball T-shirt and a loose pair of basketball shorts. She's carrying a large portfolio, the kind artists use to haul around paintings.

“Oh, hello, I don't think I've met you before,” Li Hua says from the top of the stairs.

“Mom, this is Abby, Abby, this is my mom, we're just gonna go study—bye!”

Jess jerks her head for Abby to follow before the interrogation starts, but she's too late. Li Hua's eyes light up. “Abby! Oh, Jess talks about you all the time!”

Jess' cheeks turn red. Oh God, no, no, no. “Thanks, Mom. We have a big project, lots of work to do.”

Abby chuckles and follows Jess to her bedroom. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Tran.”

“Likewise!” Li Hua says, and then adds, “Kai men, okay?” to Jess. Jess' jaw drops because she's never heard her mother ask to leave the door open when Emma or Bells visited, but there's no time to argue.

Abby looks around Jess' bedroom; her eyes flick over all the Captain Orion posters on the wall. “Fangirl, eh?” she teases, but there's no heat in it. “I'm a Bellevue girl myself, but the Captain's pretty cool.”

“Ah, yes, um, I used to—I mean I still, okay.” Jess' mind goes blank at the sight of Abby sprawling out on her bed.

Abby's hair is pulled back in a purple headband, vivid against her scarlet hair, which is springing out in a riot of curls to frame her face in a fluffy halo.

Abby opens the portfolio and pulls out posters preserved in collector's plastic. “My dad was an avid fan of Gravitus,” she says. “He kept all the posters and comics, everything. He said there was a recall of the material, back when he was in college.”

Abby hands a poster to Jess, who marvels at it. It's the same type of poster she's seen for Lieutenant Orion in the National History Museum in the Meta-Humans section; the same artist could have designed it. In vivid painted strokes, it depicts Gravitus in his solid gray costume, holding his arms aloft, with columns of earth lifting him toward the sky.

“I knew it! He was a hero!” Jess says. “Then why all the erasure? Why go to all this trouble to make sure we forgot him?”

“It's definitely fishy. Gravitus isn't the only one, you know. The whole origin of the Heroes' League of Heroes is really interesting, and by interesting I mean, we only know the nice, neat packaged story we get in the textbooks. And this wasn't all that long ago. But when you think about spin and how people can twist things… Like, think about X29, and all these people for the first time, all over the world, discovering their powers. I mean, different countries handled it in various ways, but for the most part, people went on with their lives. The ratio of meta-humans to those unaffected by the solar flare was so huge that there weren't enough metas to mean much to a government unless they could be useful on the battlefield. Except when they started to interfere in government plans like the decision to invade Constavia, and then the government started getting all the meta-humans to register—”

“To keep track of them, to provide them with resources and then training,” Jess says, repeating what her parents have told her time and time again.

Abby huffs and crosses her arms. “I'm not saying the system doesn't work, but it has its flaws, you know? Have you ever thought about the people in Meta-Human Training who go through the program but
don't
become superheroes?”

Jess' parents barely made it onto the C-list because their power level was so low. They wax nostalgic about how fun the program was: how it was great to meet everyone, the friendships formed, living on the campus, learning the extent of their powers, research. But they've never talked much about the other people. They're not supposed to, especially since everyone had their secret identities, but it probably isn't hard for someone to guess who their old roommate is now, and she's seen her parents chuckle when people they used to know are in the news.

But the power ranking system ensured that everyone got the amount of training they needed; and there were powers that weren't appropriate for battle. Those people would be shifted to jobs specific to their nature where they could still help the country.

“I guess they went back to their lives, and they're just living among us,” Jess says. “I mean, anyone could have a low-level power and not be a superhero, you know. It's not like the Meta-Human Training program puts out Captain Orions every class.”

“Yeah, okay, but there's a chance that there are a number of A-class people who don't become heroes, right? Also, you don't really look comfortable. Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, no, you're fine.” Jess sits on the edge of the bed.

Abby looks at her. Jess can't figure out what that expression is, but her own heart is thudding loudly.

“Here, look,” Abby says. She takes out an old comic book and flips through it until she stops on a page where Lieutenant Orion and Gravitus are working together to help put out a disastrous forest fire in the San Bernardino's.

“This happened?” Jess scoots closer. She ends up on her stomach next to Abby as the two of them pore over the old comics. Jess bites her lip, grateful that Abby collects print comics—she can't imagine huddling this close to her flicking through a holobook.

“Pretty sure the comic artists were all inspired by actual events.” Abby shows Jess how all the comics start: Lieutenant Orion finding Gravitus at the scene, Gravitus creating a natural firebreak with his earth powers, and Orion flying firefighters to safety. “There aren't holos of these things anymore, though, not of Gravitus being heroic. I mean, there is a record of this particular fire and Lieutenant Orion being there, but—”

“They wrote Gravitus out of it,” Jess says.

“Exactly.”

Abby leans close. Their shoulders touch. Abby's close enough for Jess to smell her shampoo—apple and cinnamon.

Abby looks up, and their eyes meet; Jess is too afraid to look away, too nervous to move closer. She hangs in the moment, wondering, wondering. It's the worst part about being attracted to girls—she doesn't know how to flirt. Will Abby think she's just being friendly? Should she just say it? But then if she says something, their whole friendship will change, and they only just started being close. And Jess likes that a lot. The chances that Abby is straight are high, and asking might ruin everything.

Abby's eyelashes and eyebrows are a darker red than her hair, and there's a faint scar running down her left cheek. Jess takes in all the details of her face so she can look back on this moment and remember—
one time Abby Jones was on my bed and was this close, close enough to kiss
—

There's a knock on the open door. “You girls ready for dinner?”

Jess scoots back away from Abby. As much as she likes to dream about kissing Abby, the reality is that she's not ready to find out whether Abby wants to kiss her back. Better not to risk certain rejection and stay in this realm of infinite possibility.

Ch.8...

Brendan, who usually reads at the table, looks up from his DED and peers curiously around his holobook with the projected text flickering on his face. He blinks at Abby. “Who're you?”

“Abby Jones,” Abby says. “I'm friends with Jess, from school.”

Brendan scrunches up his face. “Are you a new student?”

Abby takes the plate of vegetables and tofu from Li Hua. “No, been attending AHHS since freshman year.”

“So why are you friends now?” Brendan asks. “Jess only has had two friends since freshman year. If you've gone to the same school, you knew each other, so why start being friends now?”

Jess looks at her plate and wishes she could disappear.

“Brendan, stop being rude,” Victor says. “People can start being friends any time they want. When I was in M—college, there were quite a few people I didn't start talking to until two years into the program. It's perfectly normal.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jess says.

“Well, I didn't know Jess until we started AP English together this year,” Abby says. “That's all.”

“Ah, what classes are you taking?” Li Hua asks.

Abby rattles off her schedule, which sounds startlingly similar—just exchange volleyball for tennis and she'd be another Claudia. AP everything, including Student Leadership, the elective for student government.

“Oh, you're so involved!” Li Hua says. “You should encourage Jess to try for something; she's never really shown more than a passing interest in sports or any extracurriculars.”

“That's because I didn't like any of them,” Jess says, picking at the vegetables on her plate.

“But you come to the volleyball games!” Abby says. She knits her eyebrows. “I've seen you in the stands a lot.”

“Oh—you noticed?” Jess says. Hope flutters in her chest, a fragile and new thing. It could be just friendship, but Abby
noticed
her even before they started working together. She likes spending time with Jess; she stayed for dinner.

“Well, aside from the parents and the friends, I mean, the prelim games don't really draw a lot of attention, so it's not like I wouldn't see you,” Abby says. “Emma is on the team, though. That makes sense, that you're really supportive.”

Jess nods, eager for a way out. Emma laughed at her when she first started going to all the games; she told her that the pre-season games were probably going to be pretty boring, but Jess wanted to go.

Brendan laughs. “Jess and sports? Never.”

Jess colors. She's not bad in P.E.; she just gets bored easily. She does the assigned exercise at school because she has to, but she's never figured out the whole team thing. And she's not good with hand-eye coordination.

“Um, well, student elections are up soon if you wanna run for anything. I think pretty much any position other than president and vice would be easy. You'd only run against one person, probably someone who already held that position. Or you can do student affairs, that's a position,” Abby says. “It's really easy, winning the election if you're the only one running, and the whole responsibility thing isn't bad either. You get a whole period with all the other officers to plan the school dances and stuff.”

Jess pokes at her food. “I don't know. Maybe. I'm not really into planning the pep rallies and dances and everything.”

Abby shrugs. “It looks good on college apps, if that's what you're into. But personally I think Jess has a strong application anyway. She does well in her classes, she really is good at writing, and she's got this story that will probably win this short story contest, if she actually enters it. And she's got a job as an executive assistant at Monroe Industries. I mean, how many high schoolers can say they do that?”

Jess stares.

Abby turns to her and nods.

“I—ah—thanks, Abby,” Jess says.

“Well, of course we knew about the job; we're so proud of you,” Li Hua says. “But doing a sport would really help you be well rounded.”

Abby and Jess catch each other's gaze and Abby gives a little shrug,
I tried.

Jess nods back.

After dinner, back in Jess' room Abby asks, “Do you wanna try to work on our story while I'm here?”

“Sure.”

They work on their short story, and the pleasant sound of their pens on paper makes a nice rhythm. Every so often one of them asks about a word or where this sentence should go, but it's just nice, companionable. By the time Jess thinks to check the clock, it's already past ten.

Abby yawns.

Jess looks at her, thinking about her big empty house, all cold glass and steel. “Are you okay to drive home?”

“It'll be cool,” Abby says, rubbing at her eyes.

“You can sleep over, if you want.” Abby lifts an eyebrow, and Jess tries not to blush. “If you want to! It could be fun! I have extra pajamas and stuff, and um, usually when Emma and Bells stay over we just all crash on the bed, but we have a guest room if you'd be more comfortable.”

“Okay,” Abby says, with a small, pleased smile. “Sure. I'd love to. It sounds like fun.”

“Um, okay.” Jess roots around in her drawers for a clean pair of pajamas, finds a blue fleece set with fluffy clouds on them, and hands them to Abby. “I'll get you a toothbrush.”

Jess is in the main bathroom, looking for the new spares, when Brendan walks by, singing loudly, “Jess and Abby sitting in a tree—”

Jess grabs her little brother and claps a hand over his mouth. “Do not finish that,” she hisses in a fierce whisper, eyeing her open bedroom door. “Otherwise I'm telling Mom and Dad where all the missing parts from Mom's Smashmobile went last year, conveniently right before you finished your Young Inventors project.”

“Fine, fine.” Brendan rolls his eyes, but continues to whistle the song as he walks down the hall.

Jess ignores him, finds what she needs, and walks back to her bedroom with a new toothbrush. Her mouth goes dry. Abby is sitting in her bed, wearing her pajamas. The top button is undone, revealing a hint of collarbone and the slope of her long, graceful neck.

Abby's thumbing through one of Jess' comic books. “Not too many people have Smasher and Shockwave comics,” she says. “You've got the entire collection.”

Jess has them because she loves comics and is supportive of her parents. She wants to have something to show their legacy, even if it's just stopping a few robberies in their city.

Abby turns the book around to show an illustration of Master Mischief and Mistress Mischief flying in the air in their mecha-suits. “This is funny; Mistress Mischief doesn't wear a mecha-suit. She doesn't need to.”

Jess looks at the panel; the artist even got the colors wrong. Their outfits are nowhere near as garish. “Yeah, well, artistic license I guess. I mean, they always draw Smasher with these huge boobs, and her outfit isn't that tight. Look, that's not even how fabric works.” Jess points at another panel where it looks as if her mom's outfit has an unnatural focus and shading on the chest. “They don't really bother getting all the facts of these things right either. I mean, I was at this battle, I saw it happen, and Mistress Mischief definitely didn't make that store's holo display malfunction.”

“Yeah, it's like the writers think she's a technopath like Master Mischief.” Abby chuckles.

“Or maybe it's just that they work together seamlessly, so people always think their powers are the same.”

She looks fondly at the comic book; there's a panel where the artist draw the Mischiefs together giving each other sly, cunning looks.

“You can keep it, if you like it so much,” Jess says. “I have a bunch.”

It's true. Her parents have a box of each print issue in the basement. The Mischiefs don't have their own comic; comics are named after the heroes. Jess makes a note to ask M if there's a record-keeping project, or whether the Mischiefs care if they're in the comic.

Abby's fingers curl around the edge of the pages as she looks at the art.

“Thanks.” Abby puts the comic in her backpack and then gets back on the bed.

“We could work more, but I think we're ahead enough on our project that we can like watch a movie if you want.”

“Sure.”

Jess activates her desktop projector and brings it to her bed. The holos dance, and her DED flashes her last-used programs. She rarely uses the larger projector when she's in bed, preferring to just look at the smaller holos on her DED, but this is a special occasion. Jess pulls up a list of the movies she has as well as what's currently streaming on the community data exchange. Jess flicks at the list, letting the titles scroll lazily in the air. There are some romances, some adventure movies… and Jess wonders if Abby would like any of those twenty-first century movies, with old ideas of superheroes—maybe another time when she has a feel for what Abby would think of the contraband media. “Here, you can look through what I have and pick something out. I'm good with anything, just nothing scary.”

Abby grins at her. “You don't like scary movies?”

Jess shrugs. “It's just the gore and all the… Yeah, they're dumb, and I don't like being jumped at.”

Abby flicks the projected cover of
Vindicated 3
and it spins in the air, ready to be played. She quirks her eyebrow at Jess when the menu displays that Jess has watched it seventeen times. “You like thrillers like the
Vindicated
series, though.”

“That's different! I like mysteries and… there's no ridiculous monster waiting to carve up people, okay,” Jess says.

Abby grins. “What about really terrible horror movies? Sometimes they're so bad they're good. And it's fun to watch with someone; that's the best part.”

“Okay. Find something you like; I can't promise that I'll enjoy it but I'm willing to give it a shot.”

Jess grabs her own pajamas, and goes to change in the bathroom. When she's changed and brushing her teeth, Abby knocks on the door, looking shy and nervous, and Jess jerks her head for her to come in. Brushing her teeth next to Abby is oddly intimate. She is softer somehow, in her pajamas, than when she's wearing her usual outfits.

Abby giggles as they walk back to the bedroom. “I really hope you like this.”

Jess can't tell if she's ever seen Abby so excited—not when her volleyball team won, not at work when she solved a successful problem.

They get into bed and bump into each other when they both go for the right side, where Jess normally sleeps. Jess scoots to the left and gives Abby the nicer of the pillows. She doesn't mind giving up her favorite side of the bed really.

“All right, what do you have for us to watch?” Jess asks. The paused projection looks like an old black and white film showing goo leaking from a building.

“
The Blob from Ivan Lake
. It's ridiculously awesome.”

“Is the Blob the monster?” Jess has never heard of this movie and wonders if it's from Old America, and then dismisses that notion. The Collective had a phase a few years back where they made everything in black and white because it was in vogue. Abby's head bobs; her eyes light up. “Okay, let's go,” Jess says, and pulls the covers up over her knees.

They sit close together, with the three-dimensional movie playing in front of them. They keep pausing to readjust the projector to bring the holos closer, and soon enough there's a comfortable nest of pillows with Abby and Jess sprawled in the midst of them. Their shoulders touch, and each brush sends a thrill down Jess' spine.

Jess finds herself laughing throughout the movie because it's
terrible
and not scary at all. Abby watches her more than the movie, points things out, and tells her more about the weird stunts.

After the movie Abby puts on another one, which stars a giant mutant grizzly bear, and they laugh their way through this one as well.

Jess can't look away, wanting to see how the plucky protagonist figures out how to escape from the bear, when she notices Abby hasn't said anything for a while.

A soft weight falls on her shoulder, and Jess turns to see Abby breathing rhythmically, fast asleep.

Jess smiles and watches her for a bit, and then gently lays Abby down and puts her head on a pillow. She turns off the desktop projector, and she should really put her DED in the charging dock, but she doesn't want to move.

Abby's eyelashes are dark against her skin and fluttering every time she breathes. Jess closes her eyes and drifts off to a contented sleep.

Jess wakes up incredibly warm.
Somewhere downstairs, her mom and younger brother are talking loudly about cereal. It must be time to wake up, almost; she still has time if they haven't left yet.

She turns, sighing happily at the how comfortable her bed is, eager for a few more minutes of sleep before her alarm goes off, and finds a heavy weight draped across her stomach.