When we all met again, I’d failed to get any of my friends to tag along, and I’d only been able to leave Davin a message about it. I still hadn’t seen or talked to him, but I was hoping he’d show anyway. We gathered in the far corner of the cafeteria with our trays, and I pulled out my notes from the previous session. Alan cleared his throat and wiped his mouth after wolfing down a hamburger. “Thanks for coming, everyone,” he said. “It’s good to see a few more folks here this time.” I saw several more faces than at our last meeting, most of them CBC regulars.
“Look, we all know that winning the Kolbe prize would be helpful. But we also know that it will be a challenge. So I’ve outlined our major obstacles, and what we need to do to overcome them. First big challenge: we need some kind of service project, some event where we help others. Quite frankly, I think the more of this kind of thing we do, the better, because we certainly haven’t done much of it in past years.”
“And you think cramming it all in at once will help our chances?” asked a dry voice at the back.
I turned and grimaced; it was my old nemesis, the know-it-all Greg.
“Look, Greg,” Sputnik snapped, “if you’re going to be negative, you can just leave. You may be an official member, but there is an old protocol of booting uncooperative members. So beat it, or shut it.”
“Ooh, touchy. I was just wondering what exactly our plans were. Or don’t I get a say?” Gregory smirked.
“You get a vote, same as the rest of the members,” Alan said smoothly. “Majority rules.” He winked at me.
“We do have a couple things lined up,” I said, taking my cue. “We were thinking of hosting a game-a-thon, and taking the proceeds and using it to do a couple service projects. I mean, we have options. We could simply donate the proceeds to a charity, or we could use them to do something for the student body.”
“Such as?” the skepticism in Gregory’s voice was unmistakable.
I drew a breath, determined not to let him get to me. “We were thinking about hosting a free CPR and First Aid certification class. You know, to keep with the Everyday Heroes theme.” I held my breath and looked around for reactions; I was really hoping the guys would get on board with it. I saw Greg shaking his head, and a couple other guys looking blank; my confidence wavered.
“Come on, guys,” Sputnik said, “it’s not all that different from last semester, when we pitched in with all the other groups to offer that self-defense class.”
“Which was a huge hit,” I reminded them. “Over half the girls on campus—as well as many guys—showed up. Only this time,” I added, “our group would get all the credit for hosting it.”
“I think that’s brilliant,” another voice at the back said. A deep, strong, familiar voice.
I felt a thrill rush through me as I heard it and I craned my head to see. There he was, looming over the congregated geeks: Davin Kowalski. My hero.
“Seriously,” he said as all of us turned to look at him in surprise. “I think that’s exactly the kind of thing the administration is looking for. And I think it’s really in keeping with who you are as a group.”
“How so?” Greg challenged. “Unless the class is online, and the manual is a graphic novel, I don’t really see how it connects with us at all. Come to think of it, I’m not really sure how you are connected with us, either.”
“You know, Greg, you really are an ass,” Sputnik snapped. “We’re trying to recruit, in case you forgot!”
“I think what Davin’s trying to say,” I jumped in, “is that to train ourselves and encourage others to be trained is in the very spirit of the comic book heroes we admire. We would be equipping ourselves with skills and knowledge, enabling us to help others in a crisis.”
“Exactly,” Alan and Davin chorused.
“Oh! Well, I support that,” Chuck agreed.
“Great. All in favor of using our game-a-thon proceeds to provide a free CPR/First Aid class to Dubsy?” The room was filled with a chorus of “aye”s. “All opposed?” Alan went on, glancing around. Greg grimaced, but said nothing. “Great, then it’s settled,” Alan said. “We’ll get the details of the game-a-thon together and we’ll have flyers and signup sheets for you to take with you at our next meeting. Oh, and bring any other service project ideas with you then. We still want to get in a few others before homecoming, if we can.”
As the group broke up, I went straight for Davin, for once not worrying about how it would seem. I hadn’t seen him in months! He was still there, leaning against the wall and waiting for me. “Hey,” I said breathlessly.
He grinned. “Hello, Anna Fisher.”
“Hello, Davin Kowalski.” I was seized with a desire to throw my arms around him, but I resisted. “So…how’ve you been?”
He shrugged, pushing his tall frame off the wall. “Oh, you know, busy.”
“Right,” I said, looking down so he wouldn’t see the understanding in my eyes.
“What about you? Can I walk you back to your dorm, chat a bit?”
“Um, okay,” I flushed, scrambling to gather my bag and my jacket with me. I waved a hasty goodbye to Alan and Sputnik, who I was supposed to brainstorm with a bit more. They looked bewildered, but I knew they’d understand…eventually.
“So, what’s up?” I asked as he held the door open for me.
“Nothing. Just wanted to see how you were,” he said, shrugging in his trench coat.
I looked down again. “Is that why you called all those times?”
“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I was just checking. It was a long summer, you know? Just wanted to make sure you were okay, after…everything that happened.”
I tucked stray hair behind my ear and folded my arms, feeling a rush of nervousness. A lot had happened, and he still didn’t know the half of it. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I assured him.
He fixed me with his well-practiced probing look. “Really?”
I shrugged. “I still get an occasional nightmare, but for the most part I’m really doing okay, putting it behind me.” I turned the intense look onto him; two could play that game. “How about you?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Oh yeah? Looks like a fresh bruise on your cheek and an oldish scar over your eye. You call that fine?”
He stopped and gave a soft laugh. “Right, the ever-observant and over-analytical Doctor Fisher. I almost forgot. I missed that this summer, you know.”
“You did?” I turned to face him, apprehensively.
“Yeah. I don’t like to admit this, but I could have used some of your band-aids a couple times.” He looked up and away.
“Really?” I frowned, trying to recall which of the stories I’d read indicated he might have been injured. “What happened? Are you okay?” Tentatively, I reached for his arm.
“Nothing much. I’m okay now. Really.” He looked down at me, pushing his hands into his pockets. What was it about him that made him seem so brave and heroic, and yet so in need of saving himself all at once? He looked strong in the fading light, his frame silhouetted against the sky; but his wild, floppy hair and his wistful expression gave him away and revealed his vulnerability. I just wanted to put my arms around him and tell him it would be okay, that I’d always be there. It wasn’t something I could actually promise, but I wished I could.
The only thing I managed to say aloud was: “Well, I’ve still got my first aid kit, and apparently I’m going to be certified soon, so if you need me, I’ll be around.”
“Good to know, Doctor Fisher.” He smiled and stirred himself. “Great company I’ve been on this little walk of ours. Sorry.”
I stopped in front of my dorm, in front of the doors I’d barreled out of in pursuit of Dark Lightning just over four months previous. I’d expected him to look different, with the knowledge that Davin was secretly a superhero, but he looked as scruffy and hopeless as ever. “It’s okay, Davin. I’m just glad to hang out with you again. When you didn’t cal
l back, I was worried….”
“Oh, right! Yeah, Kevin gave me your message, but it was like a week later. Sorry about that. And you know, school stuff’s been keeping me busy.”
“Yeah, me too. But, hey,” I paused and took a little risk. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? I still remember what you said at the end of last year. About us being best friends. Don’t go back on that now.”
“Well….” He grinned. “Alan and Sputnik did talk me into becoming a Comic Book Club member, so, I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
I folded my arms again. “I thought you didn’t like comic books,” I teased with mock thoughtfulness.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I’ve rediscovered my love for them.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Okay, fine, you might have had a little to do with it.”
I laughed. “I’m flattered, I guess.”
And then he looked in my eyes and said, “You should be. Don’t underestimate the effect you have on people, Anna. Not just me, but everyone—those guys in the Comic Book Club adore you. Pretty soon, you’ll have more Chads and Brads around.”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “I’m done with Chads and Brads and Flash Thompsons and Harry Osbornes. I’m waiting for Peter Parker, remember?”
“I thought it was Spider-Man?”
“Him, too,” I said, and for the first time since I’d found the truth about Davin I didn’t guard it in my eyes; I just looked him full in the face, daring him to see what I knew about him.
He looked at me a moment with slight puzzlement and then looked away. “Hope he doesn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said, stepping back. “Night, Anna.”
“Goodnight,” I called after him, thinking, I hope he doesn’t keep me waiting too long, either.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. M. Richards currently lives in the Pacific Northwest, though she’s been known to call nine different states home over the years, and consequently can no longer remember her own zip code. Once upon a time, she spent seven years living happily in Pittsburgh and still has a soft spot for the black and gold city of steel. She also graduated from College of the Ozarks in Missouri with a degree in Philosophy and Religion, which seemed like a good idea at the time.
By day she is a (sometimes) mild-mannered site director of a before and after school program at an elementary school; she specializes in reading aloud, giving the stink eye, and teaching her kiddos about all things geeky (including superheroes, of course!). When she’s off duty, however, she resumes her secret identity as J. M. Richards; her superpowers include writing, reading, taking pictures of books, sipping tea, watching stuff, and faking a British accent.
She has also published another novel, Found Phoebe, which she plans to release a second edition of in the near future, along with two sequels to Davin and Anna’s adventures, and plans for a trilogy about a female superhero (related to Davin) are in the works.
Tall, Dark Streak of Lightning (The Dark Lightning Trilogy) Page 27
