by Tasha Black
Jess smiled in spite of herself. Whatever happened with West, she had known that costume was genius. Too bad she hadn’t been able to demonstrate all the features for him. He would figure them out eventually, over time.
“The police urge anyone with any information regarding the vigilante to call the special tip line set up by the Mayor’s office.”
A toll-free number appeared along the bottom of the screen.
“And remember, if you see any suspicious activity, you should not get involved. Call the police, immediately.”
Because the police had done such a great job so far.
Jess pushed her bowl away. She wasn’t hungry anymore.
She heard her mother’s footsteps on the stairs.
“Hey, honey, sorry about that, I had my hands full. What did you need?” her mom asked with a sincere expression of concern that made Jess’s stomach ache.
“I, um, I just want to go out and get some fresh air,” Jess said.
Cord could share her story on her own terms, when she got home.
Mom’s lips pulled down at the corners momentarily, then she sighed and smiled at Jess.
“I know you need a little down time, but please be careful Jessica, and come back before dinner, okay?”
“Sure, Mom,” Jess replied.
Once she was outside, Jess wheeled down the street, not even sure where she was going. The heat radiated off the sidewalks like some kind of pizza oven.
She’d thought that the physical demand of pushing the wheels on the bumpy sidewalk would help relieve the tension she felt. But it only made her angrier.
Who was Jessica Cross?
She was beginning to feel like a side character in her own life. The leftovers of a human girl, good only for pitying, unable to do anything for herself.
Well, screw that noise.
Jess was tired of waiting for someone to do something for her.
It was that simple. She was done waiting, she was done relying on others.
She pushed harder, moving faster along the street, still not knowing her destination.
When she came to the end of the block that separated their part of Cobble Slope from the seedier section, her heart began to beat faster.
This was it, moment of truth.
Now was the time to turn around and go back into her own neighborhood - stop by the comic store a few blocks from home, or grab a soda at the bodega. Play it safe, as she had been raised to do.
Feeling almost weightless with fear and exhilaration, Jess crossed the street instead.
And kept right on going.
It was time to make some new friends.
17
Cordelia sat by Peter’s side, trying to stay alert after the late night at the ball.
Late-morning sunlight trickled through the windows of the tiny conference room of P. Watson Consulting.
She’d only been at work for a few hours, but she already found herself watching the clock, waiting for the day to end. She was paying the price for last night’s festivities with a hollow feeling of exhaustion, worried looks from Peter, and the terrifying presence of Major Andrews.
She would never forget the way he and West had gone head to head before West’s fall. He’d told West that he would live to regret his decision not to sell Med Pros.
Peter’s Head of PR was sitting in on this meeting, so she had a feeling she wouldn’t find out anything from today’s conversation except the company’s party line. But she found herself on pins and needles anyway.
“These wounded men deserve a mission, a way to protect and serve again,” Andrews was saying in a grandfatherly tone. “We are working now with a new software to help pinpoint hotspots in criminal activity, so that we can better deploy patrols. The private force will be more responsive than a traditional police department, since it won’t get bogged down with bureaucratic infrastructure. Accountability will be higher.”
He took a sip from his coffee cup before continuing. It was a dark roast. Black. Cordelia knew because she had been sent to fetch coffee for him and the other attendees before the meeting.
“The old system is a product the city was forced to buy. Without fear of competition, even the best products stagnate. Alpha Division will be forced to constantly innovate to keep our contract. That’s good for the people of Glacier City. And what’s good for the citizens, is what these experienced service men and women want most.”
The PR guy was typing so fast, there was practically smoke coming out of his laptop.
It sounded good. Too good to be true.
Cordelia knew there had to be a catch.
What was in it for Andrews?
18
Jess signaled the bus to stop in front of the community center. Its familiar faded brick facade brought back some crummy memories from right after the accident, but at least it was a familiar place that she knew.
Jess had ridden this bus to the last stop, by the old zoo, not knowing where she wanted to go. She’d gotten off at the end of the line.
She spent the day wandering around, soaking up the peace and solitude, looking out over the water and trying to get her head on straight, until her hunger reminded her how long she’d been gone.
It was quiet by the zoo, but as the sun dipped low, it was also kind of creepy, and it had made her think of Cordelia.
So she’d caught the next bus, thinking maybe she’d just go home after all, when she’d spotted the community center out the bus window. It sparked thoughts of the group counseling she’d been to there, which had sometimes been… not totally terrible.
Her online friends were great. But it wasn’t really enough right now. Nothing in her life was enough. She couldn’t spend any more time locked up in her house like it was Arkham Asylum. It was time for a change.
She rolled off the lift and onto the sidewalk.
Say what you want about Glacier City, but it did have great public transportation.
Jess wheeled over to the ramp next to the steps that led to the front door, but hesitated.
The people at the center might be likely to have more questions than answers. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Need a push?” a female voice asked from behind her.
Jess turned, an acid comment locked and loaded.
A young girl approached, maybe a couple of years older than Jess.
She looked Emo, or maybe Goth, Jess could never really keep them straight. Her jet black hair matched the thick smudges of her eyeliner. She wore a too-big Ramones t-shirt with the sleeves cut off - actually cut, not like she bought it that way in the mall. And her skin was so pale it was almost white.
Jess glanced up at the sun, still intense in the evening sky. Was this girl wearing like SPF 1000?
As Jess stared, the girl flicked a cigarette butt away with practiced ease, drawing Jess’s eyes to her chipped black nail polish.
“I can manage,” Jess said quickly, filing away the caustic comeback for now.
“Cool.” The girl strode up the steps, meeting Jess at the top of the ramp. “Coping with loss?”
“Excuse me?” Jess asked.
“That’s the meeting tonight. Coping with Loss. Is that where you’re headed?”
“Wait,” Jess stopped suddenly. “Tonight’s not ballroom dancing? I’m outta here.”
She did a half turn, as if to head back down the ramp.
The older girl chuckled.
“It’s kinda beat in there. My dad wanted me to come. I guess so I could talk to other people like me or whatever.” A sardonic smile spread across the girl’s face. “But trust me, there’s nobody in there like me.”
“You, uh…?” Jess looked toward the door, not wanting to say the words out loud.
“My mom,” she said. “She died a few years ago. It’s funny. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I can’t even picture her face anymore. But I can always hear her voice. Is that weird?”
“I don’t think that’s weird,” Jess said.
&nb
sp; “How about you?” the girl asked.
“My dad. Car accident,” Jess said, surprised to feel herself collapsing a bit inside. It had been years since she had accepted that their lives would never be the same.
“Is that how you ended up rolling everywhere?” the girl asked.
Wow. There it was. No one had even been that upfront with Jess before.
Adults were always worried about hurting her delicate feelings. And kids were generally just stupid.
“Yeah,” she replied. “I was in the passenger seat. Drunk driver.”
“That sucks,” the girl offered.
“Pretty much.”
“So, are you going in?”
“I think I like it better out here,” Jess said, purposefully not looking at the girl in case she didn’t actually want to stick around. It was one thing to feel sorry for the wheelchair girl. It was another to hang out with her. In public.
“Cool. You wanna go get a slice of pizza?”
Jess’s stomach rumbled. She had left home without finishing her cereal.
“Yeah,” she said with a smile. “I really do.”
19
Jess rolled along behind her new friend for a block or two, wondering where they were going. She’d been to the community center a hundred times, but never ventured farther from it than the bus stop.
The girl stopped and Jess found herself in front of the door of a pizza shop. The neon letters over the door spelled Abbruzio’s.
A pair of cracked concrete steps led up to the entrance.
They might as well have been a mountain.
“It’s always like a million degrees in there,” the girl scoffed, moving away one chair from a small white cafe table out front and sitting down in the other one.
Crisis averted.
Jess was grateful that she hadn’t had to make a thing out of it either.
She rolled up to the space the girl had cleared.
Before they could start any chitchat, a bored looking waitress puffed her way down the steps. She looked mildly annoyed, until she spotted Jess’s chair. Then she gave them a saccharine grin.
“Hi, girls,” she simpered. “What can I get for you, sweethearts?”
Jess’s new friend rolled her eyes.
“Large supreme, two cokes,” she said without making eye contact.
Jess nodded at the waitress, who scurried away.
“Sorry, I ordered for you, but you have to try it,” the girl said to Jess.
Jess nodded again. She was starting to feel like one of those bobble-headed dolls.
Inwardly, she hoped the pizza didn’t have mushrooms. Mushrooms were disgusting. Mushrooms grew on poop.
“I’m Jess, by the way,” she offered.
“Nice. My friends mostly just call me Pan,” the girl replied.
Pan.
Jess thought of the little boy with the lost shadow. The one who refused to grow up.
“So what happened to the other guy?” Pan asked, before Jess could think through the metaphor.
“Who?” she asked.
“The other guy,” Pan repeated. “In the car that hit you? The drunk driver. Did he die?”
“Oh. No. I think he fractured his wrist or something,” Jess explained.
“Is he in jail?” Pan probed, leaning forward in her chair, dark hair sliding partly over one eye and brushing her cheekbone.
“He was,” Jess replied. “For a few months. Plus community service.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Pan said, gazing intently into Jess’s eyes, as if she were waiting for something.
“I guess not,” Jess admitted. She’d pushed down the anger for so long it didn’t register anymore, she didn’t let it.
Besides, she didn’t like being vulnerable in front of anyone anyway. What did Pan want from her?
“You ever think about paying him a visit?” Pan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Setting things right?”
Her fingers began to drum the metal tabletop lightly.
“What do you mean?” Jess asked.
But the waitress was already back with their gigantic pizza.
“Here ya’ go, girls. Enjoy,” she said without much enthusiasm, then disappeared into the shop.
The pizza smelled really, really good. Jess scanned it.
No mushrooms.
The waitress came back to slam two cokes in front of them.
Without another word, Jess and Pan dug in. It was the kind of pizza that dragged strings of melted cheese behind it onto the paper plate.
Jess got a little messy with hers, and couldn’t help noticing the way Pan managed to throw down her first slice in record time without getting her fingers slimy. Pan sighed and let her onyx eyes roll upward in catlike contentment, before diving in for another piece.
When she had it in hand, she looked over at Jess, who was still frozen, observing her.
“What? she asked. “Don’t you like it?”
“It’s awesome,” Jess tried to answer, through a giant bite.
Pan just nodded her head and clamped her perfect teeth around the end of the slice.
After a couple of pieces, they slowed down to talk.
“So what do you do when you’re not at school?” Pan asked.
“I dunno. Read comic books,” Jess answered, saying a silent prayer that Pan liked comic books too.
“That’s cool. Comic books aren’t really my thing.”
Jess felt her heart deflate a little.
“Which ones do you read?” Pan asked. “The girly shit?”
But her voice wasn’t insulting, just curious.
Jess shook her head and swallowed a bite.
“Nope, superhero stuff, mostly.”
“Nice,” Pan nodded. “I like superhero movies. I’m more into music though, Fallout Boy, My Chemical Romance, Texas is the Reason, you know, stuff like that?”
“I do know,” Jess smiled. She knew those bands. She loved those bands. Punk, emo, however you cut it, that was probably the only music worth listening to.
They talked music a while - about the good stuff and the hilariously bad. They talked long enough that Jess stopped feeling weird with someone new and began to feel like what she figured it was supposed to feel like when you were hanging with a friend. Cozy, happy, like they were in their own little world.
Pan looked down at the table, Jess looked too. Only three pieces of pizza left.
“I think I’m gonna puke if I have one more bite,” Pan said delicately.
“Me too,” Jess agreed, reaching into her pocket for some cash, but coming up empty.
She’d left in such a huff, that she hadn’t really made a plan.
Funny, she hadn’t thought about it once since they sat down.
“Crap. I just realized I left the house without any money,” she admitted to Pan.
“It’s cool. I’ll take care of it. You can get it next time,” Pan winked.
Next time?
“Okay. Thanks,” Jess murmured, pleased.
The waitress moseyed back on her way to another outdoor table where people had seated themselves.
“Hey,” Pan said.
The waitress turned back to them.
“Bring us a box for the rest. And two more cokes?” Pan asked.
The woman nodded but kept going to the other table.
“I don’t really need another drink,” Jess hedged.
Honestly, if she had another drink, she’d have to pee for sure. And those steps didn’t look any more inviting now than they had when they got here.
“Me neither,” Pan said, still looking over her shoulder.
The waitress was getting an order from the other table. When she was finished, she headed inside.
The minute the screen door slammed, Pan was up.
Before Jess could register her movement, Pan had gripped the back of her chair and spun her around.
An icy finger of panic trailed down Jess’s spine. No one ever pushed her chair, except her mom and Cordelia.
But before she could freak out, they were speeding away down the sidewalk.
Were they skipping out on the check? Jess thought only people on TV did that.
The wind caught her hair, and for a moment, she was flying.
Nothing else existed in that instant.
Not Cord.
Not West.
Not her chair.
Just the breeze on her face and the ringing laughter of the girl behind her as they sailed through the night.
20
Edward Dalton jogged up the narrow Cobble Slope sidewalk. It wasn’t easy to find parking in Cordelia’s neighborhood so he’d snagged a spot a few blocks away.
It sure was pretty here. In spite of the heavy night air, the scent of roses growing up the trellises pervaded his thoughts. Coming here was sweet. Even in response to a message like Cordelia’s.
Edward, please, I need you to come. It’s about Jess. I don’t know who else to call.
Dalton knew who else she could have called.
What was West doing? Why wasn’t he fixing things with her? Could there be any humiliation in the world not worth suffering for her sake?
It wasn’t like Dalton was in love with her himself. But he was drawn to her. Particularly since that night when he’d bitten her. He told himself he felt this bond because she had remained his friend in spite of the strange incident, with no questions and no demands.
But he couldn’t help wondering if there were something more - a connection that had to do with the bite. He wondered if she felt it too, if she felt echoes of his pain and happiness as he did hers.
She was waiting at the door when he arrived, her face pale and drawn.
“I got here as fast as I could,” he told her.
“Thank you so much. I’m sorry if I woke you, Edward,” she said, ever polite, no matter the situation.
“I’ve been kind of a night owl lately anyway. What’s up?” he asked.
“It’s Jess. She went out after breakfast, and she hasn’t come home yet.”
He could tell she was trying not to cry.
