Bumblebee at Super Hero High (DC Super Hero Girls)

by Lisa Yee

  “Whoa! That sounds excellent. Let me write that down,” Arkham said, nodding enthusiastically. “I wonder if that would fit on a coffee mug?”

  “Thank you, Dr. Arkham!” Bumblebee said. She felt better already.

  “Before you leave, I’ll let you in on a secret,” he said, leaning forward. “One of the greatest minds here at Super Hero High had the imposter syndrome. This amazing person was afraid of being found out to be a fake, a pretender, and didn’t trust their own accomplishments. But they later learned to embrace all that they had to offer the world.”

  Bumblebee’s eyes grew wide. “Who?” she asked.

  “Me!” Arkham said, beaming. “Now, can you tell the next student to come in, please?”

  As she exited, Bumblebee was surprised to see that a line had formed outside the door. “I guess you’re next,” she told Wonder Woman.

  “So I’m working on a Bat-Netspray,” Batgirl explained enthusiastically. “One that’ll spray a net over a bad guy, then harden so they can’t escape. So far, it’s working great. See?”

  Bumblebee looked over at Beast Boy, who was crouched in a corner with a hard-shell net over him. He smiled and waved.

  They were in the Bat-Bunker. The walls matched the purple on Batgirl’s costume. Bumblebee noted that the room was much darker than the Bee Tree Lab. The lab had always been flooded with sunlight during the day and lit up by voice-activated lights at night. But Bumblebee supposed that Batgirl needed the dark to make her dozens of computer screens illuminate all the better.

  “Now that your lab is gone, what’s happening with all your projects?” Batgirl asked.

  Bumblebee glanced at one of the monitors. It looked like Batgirl was tracking a storm system.

  “Nothing’s going on,” she said glumly.

  “Weren’t you working on a new super suit?” Batgirl asked.

  Bumblebee walked over to Beast Boy and gave the strands of the net a pull. Batgirl hadn’t quite figured out yet how to release whoever was in her trap. “Is he stuck in there forever?” Bumblebee teased.

  “I’d better not be!” Beast Boy exclaimed. “I got places to go, people to meet, jokes to make!”

  Bumblebee looked over Batgirl’s shoulder at the 3-D model on the screen. “What are you working on?” she asked.

  “Besides setting Beast Boy free, I’m also helping Cyborg create a stronger metal that not only deflects lasers, but then redirects them back to their source,” Batgirl said.

  Bumblebee nodded as she tried to build up her courage. There was something she had been wanting to ask her friend. “Say, Batgirl,” Bumblebee began hesitantly. “I was wondering if I could use your lab now and then. But only until mine is rebuilt,” she quickly added.

  “What was that?” Batgirl asked. She swiveled her chair around to face Bumblebee.

  “She wants to use your lab!” Beast Boy yelled. “Maybe Bumblebee can get me out of here!”

  “My lab, the Bat-Bunker?” Batgirl asked. She looked stricken.

  Bumblebee felt awful. It was probably too much to have asked. “Never mind,” she said quickly. She was glad it was dark in the room so that Batgirl couldn’t see how embarrassed she was.

  “And…awkward silence!” Beast Boy shouted.

  “Oh, Bumblebee!” Batgirl said. “I am so embarrassed. I should have offered my lab to you the minute I found out about the Bee Tree Lab being destroyed. What kind of friend am I?”

  “Apparently not a very good one,” Beast Boy quipped as he continued to strain against his bonds.

  “Bumblebee, please,” Batgirl continued. “I would like nothing more than to share the Bat-Bunker with you!”

  A smile lit up Bumblebee’s face. Batgirl would do that for her? As if reading her mind, Batgirl added, “After all, I know you’d do the same for me.”

  Bumblebee nodded. That was true. “Thank you!” she said, rushing to give her a hug.

  As the girls chatted nonstop about how much fun they’d have working side by side, Beast Boy called out, “Ahem! Hey! What about me? Hello! I’m still here!”

  Bumblebee let out an exasperated sigh. “You know,” she said, “you could just turn yourself into something small if you really wanted out.”

  Beast Boy’s green cheeks flushed a deeper shade of green. “I knew that,” he said unconvincingly. He transformed into a wasp and buzzed free of the netting. “I just wanted to see how long it would take you to figure it out.”

  * * *

  “What’s mine is yours,” Batgirl said cheerfully. It was the third day of Bumblebee’s sharing the Bat-Bunker. “Take whatever you need.” She returned to the 3-D image of Cyborg with lasers aimed at him.

  Bumblebee lingered over Batgirl’s worktable. Everything was neatly organized, unlike in her lab, where her equipment had always lain scattered about. One time when her mom had asked, “Have you ever given any thought to organizing the Bee Tree Lab?” Bumblebee truly hadn’t known what she was talking about.

  Though her lab may have looked sloppy, it was anything but that. Bumblebee’s analytical mind cataloged all her equipment, plus the status of her projects and what the next steps were. Everyone knew that when Principal Waller couldn’t find a missing file, her coffee mug, or a recently confiscated super weapon, Bumblebee was the first person she asked to help her.

  Bumblebee picked up the hydraulic torque wrench, a handful of titanium cubes, and a small solar vial. “What’s all this?” she asked Batgirl.

  “Oh, just something I’m working on for Poison Ivy,” Batgirl replied. “I’m trying to capture sunlight and turn it into liquid energy. She wants to be able to sprinkle it on her plants during overcast days.”

  “Sunshine in a jar!” Bumblebee said, tucking away the information. She waved the wrench in the air. “This will do for now,” she said as she powered down her super suit.

  Bumblebee needed to conserve energy. With only one super suit, she couldn’t afford to burn it out. Yet it seemed she was doing just that. Her battery pack was draining at an alarming rate and had to be constantly recharged.

  As the two friends worked in silence, each on her own project, Bumblebee observed Batgirl. She seemed so confident, like nothing ever fazed her. Even though Bumblebee had felt buoyed when leaving Dr. Arkham’s office, she still had her doubts.

  Since Batgirl had the most computers, everyone gathered in the Bat-Bunker. There was excitement in the air as she flipped a switch and all her computer screens began broadcasting Harley’s web channel.

  “Up soon, a brand-new show!!!” Harley shouted online. “But first, this!”

  The Supers were treated to a scene of The Flash running so fast that he miscalculated the edge of a cliff and fell off—only to be rescued by Wonder Woman, flying by in her Invisible Jet. Cheers went up as Wonder Woman tossed her Lasso of Truth to The Flash, who grabbed it with one hand and waved happily at the camera with the other as he was pulled back to school.

  In the Bat-Bunker, The Flash stood up and pointed to himself on-screen, then bowed to his friends. “To Wonder Woman!” he cheered.

  Wonder Woman smiled back. She was passing out tumblers of fresh-squeezed lemonade and Frost was blowing on them to turn them into slushies. “Cookies?” Supergirl was saying as she circled the room. “They’re from Aunt Martha.”

  “Any honey snickerdoodles?” Bumblebee asked.

  Supergirl used her X-ray vision to assess the basket piled high with fresh baked treats. “Doesn’t look like it,” she said. “Aunt Martha said she wasn’t able to get all of her regular ingredients. But here, try this ginger molasses one.”

  Bumblebee bit in. The cookie was crispy on the edges and chewy in the middle, and the spiced ginger and cinnamon were complemented by the coarse granulated sugar generously sprinkled on top. “Mmmm, thank you!” she said as Supergirl handed Harley a chocolate and vanilla pinwheel cookie.


  “WOWZA! This is making me dizzy,” Harley quipped as she spun her cookie around on the tip of her finger while doing a series of flips.

  “What about you, Poison Ivy?” Bumblebee asked. “Aren’t you having any cookies?”

  Ivy tried to force a smile. “I’m too nervous to eat,” she admitted.

  “Nervous, schmervous!” Harley said, biting around and around her cookie in the pinwheel pattern. “You were great. You’ll see. Quiet, everyone! The show’s about to begin. Oh, look, it’s me on the screens!”

  The Supers crowded around the computers once again as they were treated to the new theme music. “Today we’re gonna see a YOWZA of a new show,” Harley exclaimed, looking straight at the camera. “Yes! It’s the debut of Harley’s Greenhouse Hullabaloo, starring Super Hero High’s very own…Poison Ivy!”

  Everyone started clapping. Only Bumblebee noticed Poison Ivy back into a dark corner of the Bat-Bunker. There, she leaned against the wall, then slid down so she was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees.

  “Hello, Poison Ivy,” Harley was saying to the camera as she held a microphone in front of Ivy’s face. “For those few who have never heard of you, tell them who you are!”

  Poison Ivy looked stiff as she leaned into the mic and said in a soft voice, “Um. Er, my name is Poison Ivy.”

  “We know that,” Harley whispered, then winked at the camera. “Tell us about yourself.”

  Unblinking, Ivy stared at the camera. The room hushed in an effort to hear her. “I’m Ivy and I like science and plants and I grow things and do experiments and I have red hair,” she said on one breath.

  “YIKES! That’s awesome sauce!” shouted Harley. “And luckily for you Harley’s Quinntessentials viewers, Poison Ivy is the host for the Greenhouse Hullabaloo. Ivy, tell them about it!”

  Poison Ivy gulped and then leaned into the microphone again. “Um, Supergirl and Hawkgirl and lots of others from Super Hero High helped create a mega greenhouse.”

  “Speak up,” Harley said.

  “A MEGA GREENHOUSE!” shouted Ivy, startling herself. She blinked rapidly before continuing, looking uncomfortable and miserable at the same time. “It has room for multiple environments. I’ll be growing lots of familiar and exotic plants in here”—the camera pulled back to reveal a greenhouse the size of a football stadium—“and will also be interviewing some of the world’s best gardeners.”

  In her enthusiasm, Harley nudged her a little too hard and sent her sprawling onto the ground outside of camera range. Poison Ivy got up and brushed herself off, and came back on-screen just in time to look left, at her first guest. Standing there with a blissful smile and a head of thick white hair punctuated by streaks of black was Abby Holland, plant enthusiast and contributor to Beautiful Blossoms magazine.

  Abby was wearing a cape made entirely of hothouse flowers—colorful orchids, majestic birds-of-paradise, and flamingo lily anthuriums. It was not her usual style, but Harley had insisted she wear it, claiming that the down-to-earth Abby needed more flash and pizzazz. “Abby, you look great. The camera is going to love you,” Harley announced as she backflipped away. “Okay, Ivy, the show’s all yours!”

  On the computer screen, Poison Ivy stood frozen with Abby Holland at her side. Neither spoke. The Flash coughed into his hand to help diffuse the discomfort in the room. Supergirl asked if anyone would like more of her Aunt Martha’s cookies. Beast Boy started fidgeting.

  “Quiet. Quiet! QUIET!” Harley yelled. “Watch what happens next!”

  On the screen, a look of determination washed over Ivy’s face. She stopped slouching, stood tall, and took a deep breath as she gripped the microphone. “So, tell me, Abby Holland,” she began softly. “What can you share with us about the world’s most beautiful flowers?”

  With that, Abby lit up and began showcasing all the varieties of flowers she had brought with her. As they talked flowers, Ivy loosened up, asking questions, adding fun facts, and admiring all that Abby Holland had brought to the greenhouse. At the end, Abby declared, “I’m leaving all these rare potted Semper Augustus tulips, my personal faves, with you so that you can give them a home here.”

  For the first time since the show started, Ivy looked genuinely happy. “Thank you!” she said, waving at the flowers. Some waved back at her. Then Poison Ivy turned to the camera, as if suddenly remembering it was there. Her posture and voice became more robotic. “This is Poison Ivy signing off from Harley’s Greenhouse Hullabaloo. Join me next week as I interview more famous gardeners, and I’ll show you what’s growing in the greenhouse.”

  As the room erupted in applause, Batgirl turned off the monitors. “That was wonderful, Ivy,” Katana said, looking around. “Poison Ivy?”

  * * *

  Bumblebee had made herself small and followed Ivy as she snuck out of the Bat-Bunker just before the segment ended.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. Poison Ivy was sitting under a blossoming cherry tree inside the greenhouse on the outskirts of campus.

  Ivy wiped a tear away and pretended she had something in her eye. “I was awful,” she said, choking back her sobs. “That was so embarrassing.”

  “You weren’t awful, and it wasn’t as bad as you thought,” said Bumblebee. “I know Harley can be…well, let’s put it this way: Harley is very good at convincing people to do things. If you feel that hosting the show is something you’d rather not do, you don’t have to. But really—you were doing great by the end.”

  Ivy looked around the massive greenhouse. Unlike a hothouse warmed by artificial sources, the greenhouse was heated solely by the sun that streamed through its glass enclosure. However, Ivy had placed jars of sunshine from Batgirl near the rare flowers that Abby Holland had given to her, to give them an extra boost, and they were thriving.

  “I need practice,” Poison Ivy said to Bumblebee. “Fighting evil beings, no problem. Rescuing citizens, no problem. Public speaking…scary!”

  “Maybe I can help,” Bumblebee offered. “You could practice interviewing me.”

  A look of relief washed over Ivy’s face. “You would do that?” she said. “Oh, Bumblebee, that would make me so happy. Can we start tomorrow?”

  The next day, Bumblebee and Poison Ivy were all laughs and smiles when they entered Capes & Cowls. The practice interviews had gone well, and they’d made plans for more, though Ivy had pointed out, “It’s so much easier interviewing a friend than someone you just met.”

  “Remember to breathe,” Bumblebee had reminded her. Though it seemed like such an easy thing to do, one time Ivy had been so nervous she had forgotten how to inhale and exhale and had almost fallen over.

  “My treat,” Ivy sang as they sat at a window table. Nearby, some students from their rival school, CAD Academy, were playing checkers. Only, instead of using the checkerboard, they were throwing the pieces at each other.

  “Two teas, one with extra honey for Bumblebee, please,” Ivy said to Steve Trevor.

  His lanky frame hunched over a bit as he reached for the pencil that was tucked behind his ear to write the order down. Steve looked at Bumblebee. “You’re not gonna want to hear this,” he said, “but we’re low on honey.”

  Bumblebee blinked in disbelief. “Low on honey? How can that be? Did someone forget to order it?”

  Steve ran his hands through his thick blond hair. “Nope, we have a standing order for honey,” he said, adding, “I know you always want extra on everything. But our supplier said that with the honey supply decreasing, the price has skyrocketed, and I’ve decided it’s too pricey for us. I’m sorry, Bumblebee.”

  Bumblebee squelched the urge to panic. Her brains and dedication and ideas fueled her, and her super suit gave her powers, but honey sure did help, too! Didn’t Beast Boy once quip, “A Bumblebee without honey is one bummed-out bee”?

  “Okay,” she said dejectedly, “then jus
t tea, and how about some orange scones?”

  Steve hesitated. “How about plain scones?” he asked. “Oranges…”

  “Let me guess,” Ivy said. “Oranges are getting scarce, too?”

  “And strawberries, and other fresh fruits and vegetables.” He shook his head. “It’s the strangest thing, but some farms have them and others don’t.”

  It was very bizarre. Bumblebee had the feeling she was going to need to look into it.

  * * *

  “Could it be the weather?” Bumblebee wondered out loud as she bit into her wedge-shaped scone. It had a sweet sugar glaze on it, but orange would have been nice—and to dip it in honey would have been heavenly. She noted that her Darjeeling tea tasted a bit toasty without her usual honey, but the brown sugar cubes Steve put on the table helped.

  “I haven’t heard of any bad weather affecting crops,” Poison Ivy noted. She was trying to eat her scone with a fork and knife, and it kept crumbling.

  “Hey, hey, hay is for horses!” a green horse said as it trotted to their table. Beast Boy turned back into a teen and sat down with them. “What are we talking about?” he asked. When he reached for Bumblebee’s scone, she picked it up before he could get it.

  “There’s a shortage of honey,” she said.

  “And lots of fruits and veggies,” Ivy added.

  “Honey I can live without!” Beast Boy cried overdramatically, giving Bumblebee a wink. “But fruit and veggies I gotta have!” Then he continued in a normal voice. “Hey, BB, when are we gonna work on that tornado project?”

  Bumblebee looked surprised. Since when did Beast Boy want to work on anything? “Tonight?” she said. “After dinner.”

  “You got it!” he said, morphing back into a horse and trotting away.