Cosmic Girl: Looking For Trouble: superhero series for young adults - Book Two

by R S J Gregory

  “I’m waiting.”

  “No matter how tough he may be on the outside, Devlin is soft on the inside. If you can get a drug inside him, it will work just like it does on anyone else.” I say, realizing that I just told him how they can stop me and my friends now.

  I close my eyes and slap myself internally.

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Of course, how you get the drug inside of him, is the problem. It will be difficult.”

  “Thank you. Good luck with your exams.” He says cheerily for once, then hangs up. He always has to have the last word.

  Hang on. Exams?

  I check the date on my cell phone. It’s June 1st.

  Holy crap. Next week is the last week of school.

  Exams, then summer vacation.

  Considering my behavior over the last few weeks, I am not exactly confident that I’m gonna do well.

  Hmm, what grades do I need to be a comic book writer?

  Eighteen

  Monday morning, and the Principal corners me as I go to my locker.

  “Good morning, Miss Brookes. I trust you are rested?” Principal Meyer asks warmly as I get my books.

  I shrug and smile meekly back. “I guess.”

  “I’ve arranged a little one to one with Mr. Crowe. You two can use my office after the final bell. Okay?”

  Oh, yeah, right. The shrink. Why not?

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll be there.” I say, and he nods approvingly and walks away.

  It might be nice to get things off my chest. Plus, it’s a stranger, so he won’t be judging me. I hope.

  I close my locker and head down the school corridor as kids jostle past me trying to get to their first class. I catch up to Stuart and Ryan, and we head to our first class.

  Math. Yay, my favorite.

  Groan.

  “Miss Brookes!”

  “Huh, what?” I say and look around me.

  What just happened? And why is everyone looking at me, and smirking?

  “If you drop off again, you’ll be going straight to the Principal’s office, young lady.” Mrs. Marshall declares angrily while pointing her bony finger at me.

  “Who’s Devlin? Is he like your boyfriend or something?” John Hudson says to me over his shoulder and blows me a kiss.

  What the hell? Did I really fall asleep in class?

  I sit up straight and rub my nose and glare at the nearest smirker. I look over at Stuart, but he just shrugs and points to my chair. I look down, and the front right leg has a crack running down the length of it.

  Am I really this tired, that I would fall asleep without knowing it? I don’t feel sleepy.

  I try to focus on the board and what Mrs. Marshall is trying to teach us, but I’m finding it difficult. The writing on the board won’t stay still. It keeps drifting left and right.

  What’s up with that?

  Why does her voice sound so deep and weird? It’s like she’s imitating Dory from Finding Nemo.

  Just when I feel the world tilting on its axis, I hear Devlin’s sexy Antonio Banderas-type voice whispering in my ear.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you, darling.”

  I hear a crack, a crash, then find myself lying on my back staring up at my desk, which looks huge, giant-like.

  A shadow passes over me, and I hear someone screaming.

  “How are you feeling?” A man’s voice asks out of the ether.

  “Huh?” I mumble as I try and open my eyes.

  “You can rest. It’s okay.” The man says gently, and I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m not dead?” I ask, and with a final effort, open my eyes. I’m outside the Principal’s office on one of the beige couches.

  “Hardly. But I would like to know why you thought you might be?”

  I prop myself up on one elbow and look at the man who is sitting opposite me.

  He looks like your typical teacher; plain grey shirt and blue jeans.

  Brown suede Hush Puppies adorn his feet, which are planted firmly on the ground now, as he stands up and walks over to me.

  “Hi, I’m Bruce.” The man says and extends his hand.

  I’m feeling a little on edge still, so I just smile up at him as I push myself up into a sitting position.

  “Britney.” I say and sigh. I feel a little woozy when I become upright, and place both hands on the coach to support myself.

  “What happened?” Bruce asks and crouches down in front of me.

  “I have no clue.” I say, and try to remember the last thing that happened. It’s all foggy. I remember someone was screaming. “Devlin!” I say and look around me wildly.

  “Who’s Devlin?” Bruce asks. His thirty-something face is lined with worry, but I notice a pad and pencil in his hand.

  “Whoa! Who are you?” I ask and lean back.

  “Bruce Crowe. We had an appointment.” He says.

  So, this is the shrink?

  “Hang on. We were supposed to meet after school finished. What time is it?”

  “It’s after 4pm, Britney.” Bruce says, blinks, then writes something down on his pad. “Don’t worry, the nurse said you’ll be just fine. We thought it best that you sleep.” He says as he looks at me again.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  “I’m ready for that talk now.” I say.

  “Good. Don’t hold back any information. You’ll only get out what you put in. Okay?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna hold back a damn thing.” I say eagerly and get up gingerly.

  He chuckles and knocks on the Principal’s door. It opens after a few seconds.

  “Ah, Miss Brookes. You’re back on your feet again. Excellent.” Principal Meyer says and smiles warmly at me. “I see you’ve met Mr. Crowe.”

  “We’re going to need your office…….for a while.” Bruce says as he looks down at me with a concerned expression.

  “No problem.” Principal Meyer says and hurries inside, then returns with his brown leather satchel and a briefcase.

  “All yours.” He says before leaving.

  “After you.” I say and motion him ahead of me. Bruce heads inside and I close the door behind us.

  I don’t think he was quite expecting to hear everything I had to tell him. But, true to my word, I did not hold back anything. His expressions were funny. But the novelty of the whole superhero gig had worn off a long time ago for me. The stress of it all is wearing me out. Bruce agreed. I was suffering from post-traumatic stress, he said.

  “What do I do? I can’t just stop being a super.” I say after I stop crying.

  “Your stress is more specific, Britney. You need to find this Devlin. You need to stop him, once and for all, and rid yourself of this demon.” Bruce says calmly as he paces back and forth by the window.

  “If only it was that easy.” I grumble as I wipe away the tears.

  “Every great moment in history, every victory, every glorious eureka shout of triumph, has been hard won. I have no doubt that you will have your chance to stand tall and proud. To show everyone, that good people can prevail.” Bruce says earnestly and locks eyes with me. “Face your demons.” Bruce says and steps closer. “And kick their ass.”

  I chuckle and grin up at him. “Thanks.”

  He extends his hand to me, and I take it and rise up from the chair. I hover slightly in the air, then land and look up at him.

  “Wow. You really are Cosmic Girl.” Bruce beams, and lets out a nervous laugh. “I’m a huge fan, by the way.”

  After everything I just told him? “Really?” I ask.

  “When you wear your costume, it’s like nothing can stop you. I want you to think of your costume as your armor. And when you wear your armor, you’re going into battle. Remember that. You have to go to war with this guy.”

  “I don’t want to kill him, though.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. But you may have to hurt him. Are you prepared to do that?”

  “Yeah, I think I can d
o that.” I say. Whenever I think of the poor people who have crossed his path, it makes me furious.

  In fact.

  “Thank you, Mr. Crowe. You’ve really helped.”

  “Anytime.”

  “I have to go.” I say and head for the door.

  “Kick his ass!” Bruce calls out behind me, but within seconds I race to my locker and get my Chinese lucky cat backpack.

  Another two seconds later and I’m airborne.

  I stop above the clouds and hover, while I get changed into my Cosmic Girl costume.

  No, my armor.

  I slip on my pink glittery eye mask and secure the backpack around my shoulders. I look for the sun quickly, then turn and fly west. My anger fuels my speed, and I hear five sonic booms in quick succession.

  I reach the west coast in less than a minute. I follow the coastline south and make a B-Line for Los Angeles.

  I dodge half a dozen airliners as I descend through the clouds. I rocket towards a tall hotel, and stop. I hover in the air while I get my cell phone out from my backpack, and the list of Italian restaurants.

  I read the first restaurant name, Tony’s Place. I check its location on my cell, then rocket south a few blocks and plummet to the street. I make a loud thud when I land, and people walking by jump back.

  I look through the restaurants window, but this place looks too quiet, and small. There are only a handful of customers, and they look like blue collar workers.

  I shoot back up into the sky and check the next location. Maria’s. That doesn’t sound very mobsterish. I discount it and move on to the next one. The Veal Deal. I turn around and head for Hollywood. I see the cracked sidewalks of Sunset Boulevard up ahead and start to slow down.

  I turn and follow it west until I see the restaurant sign. I drop like a rock towards the sidewalk. I hit the sidewalk with a crunch. The sidewalk cracks slightly when I land, but I don’t think anyone will notice another crack out here.

  I put the piece of paper and my cell phone away and hover towards the entrance.

  I notice a few of the cars in the parking lot by the side have some fancy cars. A Porsche, a limousine and a couple of Audis, a TT and an R8.

  The restaurant is much larger than the others. I pass through the glass automatic double-doors, and see the Maître D’s eyes grow wide when he sees me floating towards him.

  “Miss? Umm, do you have a reservation?” He stammers as he tries to block my access to the rest of the restaurant.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Gazzara.” I say firmly.

  “Who?” He checks the register in front of him. “I don’t believe we have a Mr. Gazzara here….” He mumbles as he traces his finger along the large register open in front of him.

  “Don’t play cute, Sweetie.” I say and grab him by his Tuxedo collar and hoist him into the air. “Let’s find him together, shall we?” I say and carry him into the main seating area.

  “Hey, nice place you got here.” I say as I admire the crystal chandeliers and the deep luster of the shiny gold cutlery adorning the round tables. I notice a couple of men in dark blue suits get up at the back of the restaurant. The atmospheric lighting reflects off the oil in their black hair. They approach casually, and stop a few yards from me.

  “Would you mind putting him down?” One of the guys says in a very Joe Pesci-type voice.

  “Of course.” I say and lower the Maître D to the marble-tiled floor. “I don’t want any trouble.” I add and smile as he walks quickly back to his position while smoothing his Tuxedo.

  “The boss says, come and join us.” The taller guy says and motions for me to follow them.

  I float after them and give the other customers a toothy grin. At the back of the restaurant, some steps lead up to a raised area where ten tables sit.

  Three of the tables are full. Mostly suits, but some have their jackets off, and some are smoking cigars as thick as my arm. I recognize Frankie Gazzara when I see him. He hasn’t changed much since his last mug shot.

  “Evening fellas.” I greet them loudly as I hover past the vacant tables.

  Two goons get up quickly when I get closer.

  “Don’t bother.” Frankie says and waves them away dismissively. “So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Frankie asks as he puffs on a cigar.

  “You know, smoking indoors is frowned upon.” I say and grin when he starts laughing.

  “My place, doll. My rules. Now what do ya want?”

  “First of all, I want you to know that I had nothing to do with Tony Bardino’s death.”

  “No kidding. And?” Frankie asks gruffly.

  “I know who did.”

  Frankie sits up and leans forward in his seat, rolls his cigar between his thumb and forefinger, and looks me right in the eye.

  He doesn’t speak for a while, but when he does his voice is calm.

  “Name him.”

  “Devlin De Marco.” I say.

  His poker face slips for a brief second. Anyone else may not have noticed, but with my reflexes, I don’t miss a thing. His eyes looked furious, murderous. Blink and you’d miss it. The darkness passed over him, then left just as quickly.

  “The super-freak?” One of his men asks one of the other guys sitting nearby.

  “Why did you come here?” Frankie asks as he regards me coldly.

  “I want Devlin. I’m pretty sure that you want Devlin. Perhaps we can pool our resources?” I suggest.

  “Our?” Frankie asks and chuckles darkly.

  “Okay. Your resources.” I say and shrug. “Look, you’ve got the brains, and I’ve got the muscle.” A few of the men laugh heartily. “Hey, I’m not kidding.” I say with my purple gloved-hands on my hips.

  “Cosmic Girl, asking for help?” Frankie says teasingly.

  “I know. Total shocker.”

  “Give her a cell.” Frankie tells the guy to his left. The man in the dark black suit gets up slowly and hands me a cell phone.

  I look at the phone suspiciously, then take it.

  “If I do you this, favor.” Frankie says in a business-like tone. “I will expect you to do me, a favor, someday. Got it?”

  “Totally.” I reply. “I wanna know when someone sees this guy. Where is he, what’s he doing, what’s he planning.” I say and wave the new cell phone. “Call me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Now, are you hungry?” Frankie asks and waves a waiter over.

  Wow. “I am actually.”

  “Guys, make some room for our new friend.” Frankie says and waves some of the guys to one side and pats the seat next to him.

  “Thanks.” I say and hover over and sit down.

  A waiter hurries over with a menu.

  “Whatever you want.” Frankie says and hands me the menu.

  Decisions, decisions.

  I went for the Veal Rollatini, and it was divine. Veal wrapped in prosciutto, with mozzarella, mushrooms, with spaghetti in a sauce to die for. Who knew mobsters could be friendly when they wanted to be. At least he didn’t kiss me on the cheek when I said goodbye.

  I fly back home to Chicago, and it’s already getting dark when I get home. I change in the air, then drop down to the street next to ours, and walk the rest of the way.

  “Where have you been?” Jessica says when I close the door behind me.

  “Around.” I say and drop my backpack with my new cell phone in by the stairs and head into the living room. “Hi, Dad.” I say when he turns and gets up.

  “Oh, thank god you’re alright.” He says and gives me a hug.

  “The school called.” Jessica says as she walks past and sits down.

  “I’m okay. Just a little P.T.S.” I say.

  “You’re sure you’re okay, Pumpkin? They told me you had screamed and passed out.” Dad asks and checks my face. “You really have me worried, darling.”

  “As soon as Devlin is caught, I’ll sleep much better.” I say and pat his large forearm. “I’ll be okay, Dad.” I say and step back. “Any news about him?” I ask.


  “No sign of him on the news.” Dad says and motions to the television dismissively.

  I think about my new cell phone for a second. I hope Frankie and his boys come through for me.

  Nineteen

  The rest of the week flies by as fast as me. I knuckle down and cram in as much data into my tired and frazzled brain as I can without screaming. But come Thursday, as I enter the exam room, I feel like Wonder Woman facing down Hades.

  Hera, give me strength.

  I sit down carefully and try to get my breathing under control. I don’t feel the heat anymore, so I don’t sweat very often. But, boy am I sweating now. That’s when my cell phone buzzes quickly for a second. Text message?

  I check my cell phone, but there’s no message.

  Uh, oh. I check my new cell phone that Frankie gave me.

  Man in red seen flying over New Jersey. F.G.

  Oh, no. It’s happening. Beth? I call out with my mind.

  ‘Britney, I’m kind of busy.’ Beth’s husky voice whispers inside my head.