Heroine Worship

by Sarah Kuhn

  The portal had been dormant since then, though. Like the rest of us, it hadn’t done anything for months.

  A flowery cursive sign warning patrons “DO NOT TOUCH” hung from the silk ropes Maisy used to cordon off the area. The portal glinted in the soft lighting of the shop. Its insides had started as an unpleasant black sludge and eventually hardened into something that resembled crystal. Nate took samples on a regular basis, but the consistency hadn’t changed in the past couple months.

  “Okay, Maisy, so what exactly is the portal doing?” Evie asked. I could tell she was resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “How is this time different from all those other times you called us?”

  “It’s making gurgly sounds,” Maisy said.

  “Which is what it was doing before,” Evie said.

  My heart sank. This was probably yet another false alarm. I eyed the portal, almost willing it to do something. Give me something to fight.

  “And earlier today, little sparks were shooting out,” Maisy continued.

  “Little sparks?” Evie echoed.

  “Medium-sized sparks!” Maisy amended. “Bigger than average, even.”

  Nate moved closer to the portal, brow furrowed, and leaned in, trying to get a better look.

  “I do not believe there is any significant change from the last time we checked on this,” he said.

  “So it is, for all intents and purposes, still a big, dead thing,” Evie concluded. She shook her head, irritated. “If we hurry, we can get back to HQ before our chocolate pudding course gets cold. Or I guess that would be warm? Before it becomes not pudding anymore, is what I’m saying.”

  “Wait!” I said. I was mortified to hear that thread of whine creeping into my voice again. “Since we’re here . . . I mean, we should at least take a closer look, right? If we wait a few more minutes, maybe we’ll see those medium-sized sparks Maisy was talking about.”

  God. Was I really begging them to stand around in a lingerie shop and stare at a freaking portal with me? The Aveda Jupiter of old would have scorned the very idea. But these days, my lack of being able to do things made me feel more like Annie Chang: a mundane who was still perfecting her superheroine bravado and getting it wrong at least half of the time, my boring Clark Kent alter ego who bumbled around hiding my fabulousness. And Annie Chang was currently having trouble articulating anything that didn’t sound stuttering and unsure. But my desperation was flaring, stoked by the promise of having something to do, the promise of being able to be Aveda Jupiter.

  I just couldn’t sit through another chocolate pudding course.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Nate said, his voice turning thoughtful. “I’ll take some new samples. Our most current batch is at least three weeks old and it’s important to track even the smallest of changes.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie, a delicate tool that resembled a pair of tweezers, and latex gloves.

  “You just carry all that around with you? A whole, like, portal sample-taking kit?” Evie gaped at him. “What am I saying? Of course you do.”

  Nate grinned at her, snapped on the gloves, and moved one of the ropes to the side. He hunkered down next to the portal, using the tweezers to carefully scrape bits of the glittery black stuff into the baggie.

  “Aw, look at my boyfriend,” Evie cooed. “He’s so cute when he sciences.”

  I smiled, disarmed by the way her hazel eyes brightened as she watched Nate’s brow furrow in concentration. It was nice to see her so happy, so at ease with herself. Before she embraced her fire power, Evie had often seemed like a skittery little mouse. She’d put on a front that was calm and collected and perfect for her role as personal assistant. But behind all that beat the constant pulse of fear that she was about to burn her entire life down. I hadn’t really noticed at the time, because, let’s face it, I hadn’t been very good at noticing anything outside of myself. But it was easy to see the difference when you contrasted the Evie of then with the Evie of now. She still had the same unfortunate fashion sense—for this excursion, she’d thrown a hoodie and flip-flops over her pajamas and called it a day. But now she had a confident glow about her that came from knowing exactly who she was.

  I envied that.

  If you’d asked me who I was a few months ago, I could have answered confidently: professional superheroine and city-saver with an aptitude for powerful roundhouse kicks and excellent outfits.

  Now I’d be more likely to say: professional identity-crisis-haver adrift in a city that doesn’t currently need superheroes—and maybe never will again.

  I just couldn’t seem to locate the Aveda Jupiter mojo that had been so crucial to all my superheroing success. Annie Chang was threatening to take over for good.

  I could not let that happen.

  At least my outfits were still reasonably excellent, once I changed out of the breakfast sweatpants. For this excursion I’d made an attempt at classic Aveda Jupiter fashion—I was wearing a sleek black tank top with artfully placed sequins and matching spandex workout pants. I’d also dusted on silver eye shadow that contrasted dramatically with my dark eyes and done some careful makeup contouring to highlight my angular features. As a finishing touch, I’d pulled my hair into its power ponytail. But now, seeing what a non-event the portal action was, I felt silly. Over-dressed.

  “Thanks for the extra care, Nathaniel,” Maisy purred, giving him an appreciative look as he bent over, glutes flexing underneath his jeans. She plopped herself on a brocade chair in front of the dressing rooms. “I’ll just be over here. Watching you work.”

  “She’s watching something,” muttered Evie. “Not that I can really blame her.”

  “Champagne while you wait, ladies?” Shruti strolled up to us, toting flutes of bubbly gold liquid. She wore what was surely one of her fabulous vintage finds, a bright pink cocktail frock with a sweetheart neckline ringed by tiny black bows. The vivid shade looks gorgeous against her golden brown skin.

  “Love today’s ’do,” Evie said, gesturing to Shruti’s swingy, tousled bob, which was adorably accentuated with a pair of sparkly bobby pins. “Noticed any power change with the hair since the earthquake?”

  “That’s right, you can make your hair grow at will,” I blurted out, then felt immediately awkward. Of course Evie, ever thoughtful, actually remembered what various San Franciscans’ powers were.

  “Nothing yet,” Shruti trilled. “But hope springs eternal.”

  Dave shuffled up behind Shruti, brandishing coffee mugs with the old Sunny Side logo. He fixed us with an unnerving stare.

  “Patience is easy to wish for,” he said solemnly. “But difficult to achieve.”

  We stared back for a moment, unsure how to respond. Dave looked about as out of place as the portal. Though he was in his forties, he still projected the aura of a slacker college student: wrinkled tee, cargo pants, and plaid button-down, topped off with an ancient-looking baseball cap. His hair was long and unkempt, he sported a permanent five-o-clock shadow, and he was pretty much always stoned out of his mind. The Sunny Side Café, a longtime old-school breakfast spot owned by Dave, had closed its doors recently, pushed out by the swank foodie brunch places popping up all over the Mission.

  “Dave!” Shruti gave him a gently admonishing look. “What have we talked about when it comes to approaching customers? For now, leave it to me.”

  He turned his stare on her, then nodded and headed back to his perch behind the coffee bar.

  “He’s not great with the public,” Shruti said as we watched him shuffle off. “And he’s taking the closing of the Sunny Side really hard. So I tend to do double duty as frock seller and booze slinger.”

  “I’m surprised Maisy wants him around,” I said. “Doesn’t seem very on-brand for her.”

  “I think she feels a connection with him. In a way, they’re both trying to reinvent themselves,” Shruti said. �
��Plus he keeps the temperature pleasant. Notice how you don’t even need a cardigan.”

  “Truly a mammoth accomplishment,” I said. “No power level-up for him either?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Shruti said, with an elegant shrug. “But we’re not especially close, so I’m not sure he’d tell me.” She waved the champagne at us again. “Soooooo . . . ?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “I try not to drink during the day.”

  I’d actually taken up a bit of a day-drinking habit when I’d been injured, but now I was back to my old, disciplined ways. And right now I needed to stay sharp. Even if it was only to stare at that stupid portal for another few minutes. I would stare like nobody’s freaking business.

  “Let me know if you change your mind,” Shruti said with a wink, strolling back to the coffee bar.

  I continued staring at the portal.

  “You okay?” Evie nudged me. “You seem almost disappointed that thing isn’t about to explode San Francisco.”

  I leaned back against the table with the panty rainbow and crossed my arms over my chest, allowing my eyes to wander to the ceiling. “I thought maybe this time, it would actually be something. Second cereal course is great. But I don’t feel very useful.”

  Evie studied me, and I detected a hint of amusement flitting through her eyes.

  “I know you’re used to being the life of the party—well, when the metaphorical party is some kind of demon attack,” she said. “But—”

  “But I should be taking this moment to relax and enjoy life. I know.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Evie said, nudging me again.

  “Aren’t you even a little bit bored?” I blurted out. “You’ve finally embraced your awesome superpower and dedicated yourself to using it for good and you’re not getting any opportunities to show it off. How can you be happy just . . . just sitting there, doing nothing and eating endless cereal courses?”

  She cocked her head at me, her expression turning thoughtful. “Well. I guess I’ve never really been able to do nothing,” she said slowly. “Not for a long time, anyway. After everything that happened with our parents, I had to take care of Bea, and then I had to deal with being all freaked out about my power twenty-four seven and learning how to suppress it, and then . . .” She shrugged, but I could hear the end of that sentence.

  And then I had to spend what little emotional energy I had left putting up with you and your endless demands and diva tantrums.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “I’ve also never had what I have now. An awesome boyfriend. A supportive circle of friends who are like my family. An actually mostly pleasant relationship with my baby sister. A lack of that sense of impending dread about burning everything down around me. And time to enjoy it.” Her mouth quirked into a slight smile. “I just kinda want to enjoy it, you know?”

  “Of course,” I said, feeling like the most massive of tools. Once again, I’d been so wrapped up in my own head, I hadn’t noticed what was going on—what was really going on—with her. I still couldn’t seem to figure this good friend thing out. How I could be there for her and show her what she meant to me.

  “And if some kind of demon danger rears its incredibly ugly head, I’ll step up and make with the superheroing,” Evie said, flashing an exaggerated rakish grin and flexing a bicep. “I’m ready for that, Annie, I promise. I just don’t see any need to—”

  “To actively wish for some kind of demon danger to rear its incredibly ugly head thereby putting us and everybody we love in danger?” I finished, forcing a smile. “Right. That makes total sense.”

  And it did. Her wanting to relax made way more sense than me wanting major evilness to go down just so I’d have something to fight. But honestly, if I had to drag my spoon through that cereal bowl one more time while they all giggled about something I didn’t get, and Scott sat next to me like a beautiful golden statue and I started to wonder if it was possible to feel jealous of an orange, I was going to—

  GURGLE. GURGLE. GLUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHH.

  We both jumped. My body responded instantly to the unexpected noise, my limbs snapping into a fighting stance, my eyes going to the portal. It had just emitted a sound like someone’s stomach rumbling. Very loudly. After shot-gunning a vat of cayenne pepper.

  “Good gosh-dang!” Maisy exclaimed, leaping from her seat. “I told you guys it was acting up!”

  GURRRRRGLE.

  This time, the noise was so loud, the entire store seemed to shake. A handful of sparks shot out of the portal, then evaporated into the air.

  “Indeed,” Nate said, frowning at the portal. “Fascinating. Perhaps it is responding to my sample-taking by—”

  “Nate!” Evie cried. “Get away from that, it might—”

  GURRRRGLE . . . SLIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTH!

  As if in response to her, a jagged bolt shot out of the portal and wrapped itself around Nate’s arm. It looked like an extension of the portal itself, a massive, glittering snake made of black crystal.

  “Holy shit!” Evie gasped.

  “I’ve got him,” I said, a bright thread of purpose flowing through my veins. I homed in on Nate, concentrating with all my might, every single one of my synapses firing. I felt like extra air was being pumped into my lungs, like my vision had suddenly gotten sharper and clearer.

  I was suddenly ridiculously happy I’d worn my power ponytail.

  I reached out with my mind, activating my telekinesis. When I’d first gotten my power, it had been fairly weak—I’d made up for that with strength and athleticism. But ever since my power level-up, it finally felt like something worthy of Aveda Jupiter, superhero: like long, invisible feathers unfurling from the center of my brain to wrap around whatever I was trying to move. I loved feeling like I had an extra limb, an extra sense. The only issue I’d had thus far was I had to be looking directly at whatever I was trying to move. I’d attempted to do things like use telekinesis to shut a door behind me as I was leaving a room, just because I thought the effect would be cool. But it never seemed to work. And as someone who liked to maximize her abilities, this was insanely frustrating.

  I was confident that with enough time and effort, I’d be able to figure it out, but for now, I made do with what I was already good at. I stared at Nate, focusing hard, then wrapped my mental feathers around him and pulled, trying to get him free. The bolt-snake thing gripped hard, twisting Nate’s shoulder into an exaggerated angle, as if to pop his arm from its socket. He cried out.

  “Stop!” Evie gasped. Her face was pinched, terrified. “That thing’s grip on him is . . . If you pull him away, you might sever his arm. Or split him in two or . . . or . . .”

  “Dammit,” I growled, loosening my hold.

  The bolt wrapped more tightly around Nate’s arm and slithered down his torso. His face twisted in pain.

  “Evie,” he gasped. “I—”

  But she was already there, running to his side, right hand raised in the air so the fire could form.

  “Annie!” she bellowed, and I understood what she wanted without her having to say anything more. I darted to the other side of the portal, adrenaline coursing through my veins like blood, like life. I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything around me, as if the volume on all of my senses had been turned way, way up. The light jasmine scent in the air mingled with undertones of Dave’s coffee—a mix that probably would’ve been soothing under other circumstances, but now it seemed bitter and acrid, in line with that angry maw of dark energy at the center of the room. The bolt made ugly sucking sounds as it slithered down Nate’s body. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Shruti, Dave, and Maisy cowering behind the coffee counter. A shiver ran through me, and I realized the room was suddenly freezing cold.

  The fireball formed in Evie’s hand and she flung it with all her might at the bolt-snake thing—carefully aiming for a pie
ce of the slithering mass that wasn’t currently locked around Nate’s body.

  “Get away from my boyfriend, you portal snake asshole . . . thing!” she screamed.

  Her fire hit the bolt and its grip slackened, letting out an ominous-sounding HISSSSSSSSSSSS. I breathed deeply, focused on Nate, and channeled everything I had into my invisible feathers. They flowed from my mind, wrapping around his body. I gave them a harsh mental yank and sent him flying across the room so hard, he smacked into the rainbow panty table. The panties flew everywhere, wispy snowflakes floating through the jasmine-scented air.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. I still didn’t quite know my own post-level-up strength.

  HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  The bolt recovered, flailing outward, expanding in size, trying to grab on to something, anything. Trying to suck something of this world inside the portal. Evie flung herself out of the way, and I jumped back farther. The bolt crashed into a rack of bras and sent them flying and now it was just a full-on blizzard of underwear swirling through Maisy’s twee little shop.

  I took a deep breath and reached out with my mind. The invisible feathers unfurled and wrapped around the bolt, encasing it firmly. I concentrated hard and pushed it to the ground, pinning it there. I could feel it resisting me, pushing against my hold. I concentrated harder, determined to keep the thing immobile.

  “Now, Evie!” I cried.

  She flung her fire at it. It arced from her hand, a blaze of light spinning through the air.

  GLUUUUHHH . . . HISSSSSSSSS.

  The fire hit the bolt and it dissolved into slime, an oily black blob that oozed its way back into the portal and winked out of sight.