Not Your Sidekick

by C. B. Lee

  Genevieve nods. “I’m not an expert, and it won’t be playing on every DED like we wanted, but at least we can get the word out.”

  One of Abby’s computer consoles sits on the kitchen counter projector. She slides the chip into it and taps away at the screen. A holo springs to life: Orion pacing in her home, eyes glittering, saying, “You are nothing more than part of the NAC plan for creating more meta-humans and controlling the ones we have. Of course, we can play with radiation all we like. but we can’t come close to duplicating the effects of X29…”

  Glass shatters.

  Jess doesn’t have time to see what is happening before Abby pulls her behind the kitchen counter as shards fly everywhere. She peeks up; the beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows she admired so much on her first visit are in pieces, and Claudia is standing there, pulling Orion to her feet.

  “I had to wait until I was sure Mistress Mischief here was tapped out, and I had to stop Smasher and Shockwave,” she says.

  “Late is better than never, Cora,” Orion snaps.

  Claudia grimaces at the incorrect name, but she gingerly takes Orion by the waist, careful to avoid the tantalum cuffs.

  Jess lurches forward in horror. “Mom and Dad—what did you do—”

  Claudia gives her a hard stare. “Just made sure Shockwave was tapped out. They’re stuck on the other side of town, waiting for a bus, of all things.” She looks at Jess but doesn’t say anything, just sets her jaw and then glances away.

  A string of memories run through Jess, and each one hits her in the gut: a young Claudia, taking her torn rice paper and wrapping a new gỏi cuốn for her; Claudia carrying her on her shoulders, promising they’ll fly together one day; the two of them playing hide and seek as children.

  Jess is frozen where she stands—even if she could do something, if Claudia’s at full strength or if she’s been taking Orion’s supplements, she can’t take her sister in a fight.

  “Let’s go, Powerstorm,” Orion says testily, shaking Claudia out of her stupor.

  “Right,” Claudia says, and gives the rest of them a cold look, hovering with Orion. “Good luck being villains.”

  They fly out the broken window, and the last thing Jess hears is Orion saying, “You really need to work on your one liners, Connie.”

  Things don’t go back to normal right away. Jess thought that it’d be easy; publish the evidence about Orion, show the whole world what’s been happening under their noses. Unfortunately they can’t find any traces of the video on the Net; even the buzz that started on conspiracy forums when they posted it—everything is gone the next day.

  They still need to find Master Mischief, but now that Genevieve is back and Jess’ parents are in the loop, the adults want to handle the situation. Jess and her friends are supposed to go back to school, focus on their studies, pretend everything is normal, but Jess doesn’t think Abby will stay put when her dad is still out there. Jess wants answers too, wants the world to know what Orion’s capable of.

  “At least wait until you finish your final exams,” Li Hua says testily. “Your grades, Mei-Mei, think about your grades!”

  Jess hardly thinks it’s a priority compared with everything that’s going on, but she reluctantly agrees to let the adults work on it until winter break, at least.

  Emma still hasn’t given up on coming up with a name for their group, much to everyone else’s amusement and exasperation. Jess is glad she’s taking it well, though.

  “Powers? Why would I want powers?” Emma says, shaking her head when Jess pulls her aside at school to talk to her about it. “Look, the way I see it, I’m the only one here who is resistant to tantalum and keeps a cool head when things get rough. Sure, I think powers are neat. But not for me.”

  “I thought you’d be upset,” Jess says.

  Emma hugs her. “I was just upset when I thought Bells was secretly dating someone and didn’t want to tell us. And he’s not, so everything is fine.”

  “Fine, huh?” Jess waggles her eyebrows and is pleased when Emma’s ears turn pink. She doesn’t really know exactly what Bells and Emma talked about when he took her home after the Orion mess to “explain everything,” but she might hazard a guess.

  “Yes, fine,” Emma says. “Oh hey, did you see that new transfer student from Nuevo Los Angeles? He’s got dimples, Jess, dimples…”

  Ah. Maybe Bells didn’t explain everything.

  Abby and Bells are already sitting in their usual lunch spot when Jess and Emma join them, apparently in the middle of a serious conversation.

  “Look, you don’t get it, if the League has declared Chameleon as a villain, things are going to get ugly, real fast.” There’s a little furrow of worry in Abby’s brow, and Jess wants to smooth it out. She settles for kissing Abby’s cheek as they sit down, and is delighted when Abby gives her a swift kiss on the lips in return.

  “What’s ugly?” Emma asks, stealing Bells’ fruit cup off his lunch tray.

  Bells rolls his eyes. “I can handle it,” he says. “Here, look.” He pulls up a newsholo on his DED. It’s an official report from the League that declares the villain Chameleon on the run and collaborating with the United Villain’s Guild for “unknown plans of heinous atrocity.” Bells smirks. “Heinous, that’s great. You think I should add an adjective to my name? The Heinous Chameleon. Or does that sound pretentious?”

  “Abby’s right,” Jess says, frowning. “They’re dangerous, and if they’ve decided you’re the enemy…”

  Abby nods. “I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. And now that my mom’s back, we’ve taken a lot of extra precautions.” Genevieve and Abby have moved out of their Andover home to a hidden place out in the canyons that Emma is absolutely not allowed to call a secret lair. “You should change your name; your whole family needs new identities, you should move, transfer schools… on paper I’m still Abby Jones, and Orion isn’t going to connect my information to the Monroes at all, but you…”

  Bells looks smug. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that my parents being super-paranoid over everything, even Meta-Human Training, has its benefits. I applied to the League as Barry Carmichael, and none of them know what I actually look like.”

  “I take back everything I said about your weird family,” Emma says. She flicks through the rest of the newsholo and frowns. “Hey, how come this doesn’t say anything about Jess or Abby?”

  Abby shrugs. “Probably because they don’t see either of us as a threat. They don’t know about Jess’ powers, and they think I don’t have them anymore.”

  Jess squeezes Abby’s hand.

  The physical symptoms disappeared after a few days, but Abby still hasn’t been able to access her powers. She thinks they’re completely gone, but Jess knows Abby’s talked about being able to sense things, like the potential to use her telekinesis or her technopath abilities, but she just can’t, as if there’s a closed door in her head.

  Emma pokes Abby in the forehead. “Look, even if you can’t do all that techno mumbo-jumbo, you’re still the best setter in this school—no, the entire Nevada region. If that’s not a superpower, I don’t know what is.”

  Abby laughs. “I have definitely missed volleyball.”

  “Are you going to come back to the team?” Emma asks, her eyes lighting up.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Abby says. “We can’t just sit on our asses and not live our lives while we’re trying to expose a corrupt government,” Abby says.

  One Saturday, Abby convinces Jess to come with her to the school. Jess follows her warily until they get to the gymnasium, and Abby unlocks the storage closet and pulls out a volleyball.

  Jess ties her hair back, not bothering to check how it looks. She looks around the empty gymnasium. “Are you sure about this? Aren’t we like, trespassing or something?”

  “Look, the school is funded by tax dollars. I think we can be
here. Plus, I have the keys to the gym and if I say you can be here, you can totally be here,” Abby says, grinning.

  “I’m not an athletic person,” Jess warns.

  “This isn’t about that. It’s about having fun!” Abby tosses the volleyball in the air, and bounces it on her forearm. Abby’s skin turns pink and shiny with the impact. Abby keeps bouncing the ball, keeping it in rhythm. She aims the ball and sends it flying toward Jess in a slow, easy arc.

  Jess throws her hands up and shrieks; the ball hits her hands and falls to the ground.

  Abby laughs. “That was a good start. Figuring out where the ball is and protecting yourself! It’s awesome. Okay, this time, try hitting it back toward me.”

  “I’m not good at this, okay,” Jess says. “I’m not sporty like you.”

  “This isn’t about being sporty or not. That’s not… it’s not even a thing. It’s just about practice and hard work. I think certain people are inclined to like it or start off liking it better than others, but ninety-nine percent of all sports—or anything, really—is a person just working really, really hard at their craft. Like… okay, you know how you are with your writing? I’m not anywhere near as good as you are. Like that time you were talking about imagery and symbolism and like, I don’t even know how to do any of that. How did you get good at that?”

  “Practice.”

  “Right! You weren’t born an amazing writer. You worked at it, read a lot, got better at it over time. Same with me and volleyball. We do training and conditioning, and I can say for every kid who’s supposedly a natural talent, there’s another person who works their ass off and gets better than that person. You can’t coast by on talent alone. It’s hard work that makes all the difference.”

  Jess nods.

  Abby tosses the volleyball in the air and gives it a careful spin. “Okay, you ready?”

  Jess holds her arms together in the position that Abby taught her and stands with her feet apart.

  Abby tosses the ball and then lobs it over, and this time Jess hits it back.

  Abby catches it, and then jumps up and down in excitement. “Woo! You did it, you did it!”

  Jess blushes. “It wasn’t that amazing.”

  Abby tosses the ball aside and rushes toward Jess, hugs her and picks her off the floor, spins her in a circle. They tumble, laughing, to the floor. The gym smells of old sweat and the lights are too bright, but they might as well be in the most romantic place in the world. Abby’s hair tangles with Jess’, and then Jess, emboldened, leans forward for a kiss.

  “Okay, that was amazing,” Jess admits.

  Abby laughs and laughs and laughs.

  “What’s this?” Abby asks as she takes the blue journal.

  Jess twists her hands. It seemed like a good idea this morning. Abby was sharing something she enjoyed with her, and she wanted to do the same. “It’s just some stories and stuff that I’ve written.”

  Abby opens the cover and looks at the handwriting on the first page. “By Jess Tran,” she announces to the room. “Your handwriting is so cute here.”

  “Ah, that’s from when I was twelve. I’ve had this journal for a while. I keep filling it with stuff, just random ideas. There’s a longer story that I’ve been working on in the back. It’s an adventure story. It starts… right here.” She flips to the most recent section, and Abby’s hand curls around hers.

  “Thank you for letting me see this,” Abby says softly. “I know it’s hard to show someone what you’re working on.”

  Jess flushes. “Well, you’re important to me, and I care what you think, so… yeah. Here it is.”

  Abby grins. “Am I gonna see, like, hearts doodled around my name anywhere?”

  Jess snorts. “That’s a different notebook.”

  Abby holds the notebook in one hand and takes Jess’ hand in the other, pulling her close for a kiss. “I like your stories,” she whispers. “And I knew that our characters in the one we were writing for Rhinehart—that you imagined them to be us, because I did too. I was hoping you’d pick up on it sooner.”

  “You knew?” Jess’ eyes widen. She pulls back so abruptly she bumps into Abby’s nose. “But—then you knew about my hugely awkward crush on you!”

  “Yeah, but you also told M that,” Abby says, raising her eyebrows. “That never occurred to you?”

  “Yes, I mean, but like, I did know but I was too caught up in the whole rescue-your-parents thing I just… forgot.”

  “You are so cute when you’re embarrassed. You’re just realizing it now, aren’t you?”

  “Đụ!” Jess curses and buries her face in her hands. “I talked about you to your face, oh my God, how did you let me do that?”

  Abby laughs. “It was kinda funny. I mean, I didn’t know you very well at the time, but it was really interesting, and I did learn some interesting things about what you thought about me.”

  “Look, I didn’t know you then, I just… I don’t know. I had this crush on this idea of you as a person, but then it developed into something real once we started hanging out and then it was worse, oh gosh, the feelings…” Jess shuffles backward, nearly falling, but Abby steadies her with an arm around the waist.

  “Hmm, pesky feelings.” Abby kisses her on the nose, making Jess giggle, and then kisses her again on the lips.

  On Monday, Ms. Rhinehart passes back their completed short stories. “Good job, everyone,” she says. “I’m quite pleased with your progress, especially the collaborative effort from everyone. My favorite thing about this assignment was seeing writers with different styles pair up and how everyone learned by doing. And you might not think I’d recognize it, but I did warn you not to let one person do all the work, and I’m quite proud to say that everyone gave their best effort and did collaborate. I’m in touch with a local literary magazine, and I suggest you all submit your pieces to it.”

  Everyone looks at their grades, and Abby and Jess hold their folder, looking at each other.

  Jess takes the first step, tossing back the protective cover.

  “What is it? Don’t tell me—okay tell me—okay no, all right, now I’m ready,” Abby says.

  “We got an A,” Jess says.

  “Oh,” Abby says, eyes widening in awe. “Oh, that’s awesome!”

  They look through the document together, reading Ms. Rhinehart’s comments on the story, laughing at one of the appreciated jokes, and then they get to the end.

  Jess reads aloud, her smile broadening as she goes. “This ending is nice, but a bit vague. If you do a bit of polish, this would be an excellent work for publication. What happens after they defeat the evil Schuester? Do Rebecca and Michelle have a happy ending?”

  Jess looks at Abby, and she thinks about the future. There’s a lot in question, what with figuring out what the government plans for the heroes and the villains, and she has no idea how to make sure that this doesn’t happen again, but she has Abby at her side.

  “Yeah, I definitely think so,” Abby says. Under the table, she squeezes Jess’ hand.

  “Most definitely a happy ending.”

  It’s a Thursday afternoon, and Jess is at Abby’s home again, and this time there’s no pretense of studying or working on a writing assignment. The new house is full of light and the reflected red hues of the canyons that surround it.

  Jess is sitting on a half-assembled couch in the space that will be the living room, laughing as plates of food float in the air.

  “Mom, I said we’re fine, we already had a snack—” Abby shakes her head, and the plate of cookies flies back toward Genevieve.

  “Yeah, but dessert! Oh, but we’re out of milk. I can go down to the store and buy some. Jess, you’re staying for dinner? What would you like? Oh, this pantry is so empty, I hate it. Abby, what did you eat while I was gone? Please tell me it wasn’t just Jacks’ grilled cheese sandwiches.” Ge
nevieve wrings her hands, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies wafts toward Jess. “Is chocolate chip okay? I made peanut butter, too, they should be ready—oh!”

  The oven dings and the door opens with a flick of Genevieve’s wrist. The cookies fly out of the oven and onto another plate, which then flies toward the living room. Genevieve insisted on making cookies today instead of continuing to unpack boxes.

  Abby buries her face in her hands.

  Jess takes the plates, laughing. “Thank you, Mrs. Monroe. Er, Mrs. Jones? Your Mischiefness?”

  Genevieve chortles, waving her hands at Jess. “Oh dear, Gena is fine.” She leans on the kitchen counter, giving them an indulgent smile.

  “We’re going to be in my lab. Mom, don’t wear yourself out with cookies. I’m serious.” Abby rolls her eyes, but Jess can tell she’s pleased to tease her mother like this.

  Abby’s new lab is already cluttered, boxes open and workstations haphazardly set up, scattered with moving holos that show Abby’s older projects. It’s fun to see the evolution of her MonRobot designs through the years, and holos that picture Abby and her parents.

  Abby lingers at one of her and her dad, grinning at each other over a workstation. She traces the flickering edges with a wistful smile on her face.

  “We’ll find him. Don’t worry,” Jess says.

  Abby gives her a grateful smile. “Thanks. C’mon, I have something to show you.”

  There’s something on the farthest worktable under a canvas drop cloth. A few lights flicker, and it comes to life as Jess gets closer, and a familiar oblong silver case wheels out from under the fabric, meeping at Jess.

  “Chả!” Jess shrieks. The robot cheeps at her and wheels about in circles around her feet. Jess gasps. “Already?”

  “Yeah, of course. I know you love that thing. I made a few improvements in motor functions, but the A.I. is exactly the same, so it shouldn’t—”

  Chả starts vacuuming, cheeping rapidly, as if it’s excited. It spins back and forth on the tiled floor of the workroom, confused, and then rolls right under one of the worktables and promptly gets stuck.