Harley Quinn at Super Hero High (DC Super Hero Girls)

by Lisa Yee

  Arkham looked like he was asleep. But then he blinked his eyes open. “Harley,” he said. “People underestimate the benefits of being happy. Laughter can make people feel better. You get that. Most don’t.”

  “But what about hanging out with my friends? I would, but there’s no time! Oh, wait,” Harley said, interrupting herself. “I gotta cut today’s session short. I’m busier than a bumblebee. There’s someplace I gotta be.”

  “Harley!” Dr. Arkham called after her. “I need to ask you something.”

  “Yeah?”

  He waved his magnifying glass in the air. “Why am I holding this?”

  That afternoon in detention, Green Lantern refused even to look at Harley. “You could at least have warned me,” Green Lantern griped. “We could have rehearsed.”

  “I didn’t know until I saw the tuba,” Harley admitted. “It was so big and shiny!”

  “No talking!” Lucius Fox called out. Unlike Grodd, he did not appreciate detention duty.

  “You have to admit, we had fun, right?” Harley whispered to Green Lantern. “Everyone was laughing.”

  “Shhh,” Big Barda said.

  Green Lantern gave Harley’s question some thought. “Maybe a little, but it’s not worth getting in trouble for.”

  “I dunno,” Harley mused. “I kinda thought it was totally worth it. It sure cheered up the room!”

  When Harley plopped her tray down on the table, Katana turned to her and said, “We were just talking about fan mail.”

  “I never get any,” said Miss Martian, “unless you count the letters from my mom. She sends tons of them.”

  Katana sliced her veggie lasagna into perfectly square bite-sized pieces. “My parents email me twice a week,” she noted. “Although I wouldn’t call it fan mail. It’s more like how-did-you-do-on-that-test mail.”

  “I hear from my grandmother all the time,” Hawkgirl said. She was eating another helping of mac ’n’ cheese ’n’ mushrooms. “Half of it’s fan mail, the other half is her worrying if I’m eating enough. Will someone take a photo of me with this?” She held up her plate and smiled at Batgirl.

  Batgirl handed Hawkgirl’s phone back and said, “I hear from my dad constantly!” As if on cue, Commissioner Gordon waved to his daughter, then sat down at the faculty table. “Harley,” Batgirl asked, “do your parents write to you?”

  Harley poked holes in her chicken potpie. “Oh, they’re so busy with their world travel, they don’t have time to write,” she said.

  “What do they do?” asked Big Barda.

  “Tightrope walkers,” Harley said quickly. “All around the world, everywhere there are tightropes.”

  Hawkgirl sent the photo Batgirl had taken of her to her grandmother, then said, “Harley, I thought you told me your parents were accountants.”

  “Did I say that?” Harley asked. “Well, they used to be. Now they’re librarians.”

  Batgirl perked up. “I didn’t know that!”

  “Oh, sure, they have a library in their motor home, and they only have cookbooks, because they used to be professional chefs.”

  “So they’re tightrope-walking accountant librarian chefs?” asked Barda.

  “They were chefs and accountants, but that was after they sold spaceship insurance,” Harley said, not meeting anyone’s gaze.

  “Wait!” Beast Boy leaned over from the next table. “You told me you were raised by raccoons!”

  Harley laughed. “Did I say that? My bad. I meant coyotes.”

  “You must get tons of fan mail because of your Web channel,” Miss Martian said. “Tell us about it!”

  Harley was glad to change the subject. She tried to look modest. It was true. She probably got more fan mail than the others did. In fact, she was always telling her viewers to “Let me know!” And they did.

  “I answer all my fan mail right away,” Wonder Woman was saying.

  “I save them up and answer once a week,” Supergirl said. “I noticed I get more emails after a battle or Save the Day.”

  “I don’t get as much as the two of you,” Bumblebee offered. “But I love it when fans send me honey. There’s this group who calls themselves the Bumblebee Honeys, and they’re my unofficial fan club. I always send them a handwritten thank-you note when they send honey. Anyone get anything interesting recently?”

  “I just got this,” Harley said, pulling a mirror out of her pocket.

  The girls gathered around. A round of “oohs” went up in the air as they admired the gorgeous hand mirror.

  “That’s carved from teak,” Katana said, inspecting the craftsmanship. “Look at the inlaid pearl.”

  “It looks old,” noted Supergirl. “Like a family heirloom.”

  Bumblebee held it up to the light. “Wow, my reflection looks like I’m actually in the mirror, like it’s three-D.”

  Harley took it back and peered at herself. She wiggled her ears. “WOWZA!” she exclaimed. “You’re right. I look more real in the mirror than I do right here!”

  “Who sent it?” Supergirl asked.

  Harley shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  No one was surprised by this. School packages were often delivered by drones or birds, or on the backs of rockets.

  “There was no name or return address on it,” Harley continued. “But the note said: ‘To Harley Quinn, from your biggest fan.’ ”

  For the next few days, Harley was never without the mirror. She used it when she needed to fix her hair, or after eating. “No one wants to see a close-up of a Super with food in their teeth, am I right?” she asked. Harley even used it to practice her lines for her Web channel.

  “Harley, please put your mirror away,” Pied Piper said. “I’d like you to focus on what I’m about to show you.” He began playing a video of singers from around the world doing their interpretation of the same song. “Focus, Harley. Focus.”

  Easy for him to say, she thought as she tucked the mirror back in her pocket. She looked up. Now, what was that she was supposed to do?

  Back in her room, Harley took the hand mirror out again. “Hello, HQ fans,” she said as she watched herself. “Harley here, asking, How would you like a super-duper exclusive behind-the-scenes Harley-riffic special at Krazy Karnival?”

  She was pleased with her idea. It was sure to attract attention. After all, everyone had heard of Krazy Karnival. So why not turn the amusement park’s twenty-four hours in Metropolis into a mega-special, Harley-style?

  “Let me know,” Harley practiced saying. “Send me a message!” She was about to put the mirror down, but stopped and gasped.

  It looked like the Harley in the mirror winked at her.

  It was impossible to get hold of Jervis “J.J.” Tetch, the Krazy Karnival’s new owner. Not even Batgirl could find him, and if she couldn’t, then no one could.

  “He’s elusive, that’s for sure,” Batgirl said as Harley leaned over her shoulder and tapped the computer screen. “Um, Harley, personal space, remember?”

  Harley stepped back.

  From what Lois reported, Harley knew that J.J. had recently taken over the amusement park, but he was something of a mystery man.

  “Maybe I should do this later,” Batgirl said as Harley did a tumbling routine and nailed her landing a few inches from Batgirl’s workshop area.

  There were lots of sharp tools and confusing gadgets and wires and whatnots. Harley opened a black velvet box and examined a teeny-tiny silver pellet nestled beside a ring.

  “No, no, no! Search for Tetch now. I’ll be quiet,” promised Harley as she held the pellet to the light.

  Batgirl let out a huge sigh. She sighed a lot around Harley. “Careful with that. Remember when you put a micro-camera on Bumblebee?” Harley nodded. “Well, that gave me an idea, and you’re holding it.”

  “What is it?” Harley asked, squinting at the object.

  “I’ve been toying with the prototype of a micro ring-activated drone camera,” Batgirl said, taking the pellet from Harley. “I�
��m calling it the QuinnCam.”

  Harley beamed. It was named after her! She slipped her mirror out of her pocket and said into her reflection, “Harley Quinn here, reporting live via the QuinnCam!”

  The bubbles started slowly, drifting down from the clouds like a summer’s rain. Only instead of showers, it felt like happiness blanketing Metropolis. Supergirl spotted them first as she flew back to school, having spent the night at her Aunt Martha and Uncle Jonathan’s farm.

  “The Krazy Karnival has arrived!” Supergirl announced as she flew around the dorm, throwing cookies to everyone she passed. Aunt Martha always made enough for the entire school.

  Harley reached for her mallet and camera. As an afterthought, she tucked the velvet box from Batgirl’s workshop into her pocket, just in case. “It’s showtime!” she announced, looking in her hand mirror. “Miss Martian, let’s go!”

  For days Harley had been publicizing it: “Coming soon, the Krazy Karnival on Harley’s Quinntessentials, streaming live!” And in what she claimed was a spur-of-the-moment genius idea, she promised, “Music fans, get this! We’re gonna have a rematch of the HQ Battle of the Bands at the Krazy Karnival! So tune in to see who the winner will be!”

  She hoped J.J. Tetch would be as enthusiastic as she was. Should she have gotten his permission first? Harley brushed away her doubts. Better to do first and ask later, she reminded herself. “Right, Miss Martian?” she said as she pushed past the crowds toward the sights and sounds of the Krazy Karnival.

  “Huh?” the mind reader asked.

  “Are you reading my mind now?” Harley said.

  “Um, no,” Miss Martian protested. “Mind-reading is my superpower. I only use it when I have to, for the good of the world or to save lives.”

  Harley laughed. “There’s so much going on in my mind, I doubt you could read it anyway. Try!”

  “I don’t think so,” Miss Martian demurred.

  “No, go ahead,” Harley insisted. “You have my permission.”

  “Okay,” Miss Martian said, closing her eyes. After a couple of seconds, she said, “It’s confusing, that’s for sure!”

  Harley grinned proudly.

  Near the entrance was a long line. It looked like the entire population of Metropolis was in attendance, in addition to most of nearby Gotham City, and every place in between. Schools from every country and galaxy were represented, since students got in free. And, of course, everyone from Super Hero High was there, except for the teachers and Principal Waller, who were at an Excellence in Education Conference on Upsilon Andromedae B—the planet, not the band.

  Harley was in heaven.

  “We are going to have the best day ever!” she enthused.

  “I’m not sure,” Miss Martian said, looking at the crowds. She started to fade. “There are so many people here.”

  “Exactly!” said Harley. “You read my mind! The more the merrier, and the merrier the more viewers, and the more viewers the more popular Harley’s Quinntessentials! What are we waiting for? Let the adventure begin!”

  “Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me, Harley Quinn here, and I need to be there!” she said, pointing.

  The giant bubble machine rose from the center of the carnival looking like a colossal jukebox with a rainbow of bubbles shooting out as music played. As Harley made her way past the crowd of excited guests, Miss Martian trailed along, looking at the video screens that were everywhere. On them, J.J. Tetch was touting, “You’re in for the time of your life!”

  “Hurry!” Harley called out. She wasn’t sure if her friend was way behind or had turned invisible again. “Stick with me, Miss Martian, and you’ll have a day you’ll never forget,” Harley promised. “You can help me put up my cameras all over the place. The more the better!”

  “Maybe I’ll just go back to school,” Miss Martian said, out of breath. “I have a good book I’m in the middle of. It’s called The Shout of the Clam.”

  “Look! It’s the Green Team! Helloooo, Green Team,” Harley said, waving. The teens shouted and waved back.

  “Did you get permission yet?” Miss Martian asked as Harley hurried her along, placing cameras along the way. “To do a behind-the-scenes here and to host the Battle of the Bands?” She saw band members lugging their instruments.

  Harley snorted. “You sound like Hawkgirl.”

  Miss Martian smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

  “Not yet. Let’s find the owner of the Karnival. He’s gotta say yes to an interview! He’d be crazy not to. And as for the Battle of the Bands, I think it’s totally necessary, don’t you?”

  “But where will it be? When will it be? You just told the bands to show up, and…and—”

  Harley stopped and shook her head. “Miss Martian, there’s nothin’ to worry about. We’ll figure it out when we get there! That’s the Harley way.”

  Miss Martian’s eyes widened with concern, but she clamped her mouth shut.

  At the gates, cheerful carnival workers decked out in colorful light-up costumes handed out treats, like Raspberry Sugar Bombs that made hilarious exploding noises when you bit down and Cotton Candy Clouds so light that if you didn’t eat them immediately, they floated away. Some students from Metropolis Elementary were carrying deep-fried hot dogs on sticks, while others ate gooey slices of pizza. Busloads of kids were screaming and laughing. Though they had just arrived, their chaperones already looked exhausted as they grabbed for the free light-up necklaces and “Krazy” hats as fast as the carnival workers could pass them out.

  Bumblebee flew up to Harley and Miss Martian. “Isn’t this great?” she asked. “I’m going to get one of those hats with lace and sparkles. What about you two?”

  “No time for hats,” Harley said. “We can’t wait to get to the fun, isn’t that right, Miss Martian?”

  “Oh, well, a hat might be nice,” Miss Martian said softly. Just then, a carnival worker with white wings and silver hair plopped a flowerpot hat on Miss Martian’s head, much to her delight.

  “It looks lovely on you!” the worker said. “I’m Silver Swan, and I must say, the peach and yellow flatter your green skin.”

  Miss Martian blushed again.

  “Here’s one for you,” a muscled man in yellow said to Harley. He was holding a jester’s hat. Four colorful padded points that resembled donkey ears in red, green, purple, and yellow flopped merrily. Their tips were weighed down with jingly bells. But before he could put it on her, Harley started running.

  “Look!” she cried, dragging Bumblebee as Miss Martian hurried to keep up. “Over there!”

  Bumblebee rode the Honeycomb Hideaway ride again and again. It was a delight to sit in the golden honeycomb cups as they sailed in and out of honeycomb-land, bees buzzing around in sweet harmony. The attraction’s song was the kind that played over and over in your head, long after the ride was over. “Bees, bees, a world of bees…”

  Meanwhile, Harley and Miss Martian were mesmerized by the wonderland of lights and sounds and tech. Everything was so retro that it was daringly modern. Old carnival attractions had been expanded and improved and were awash in neon colors. Everywhere you looked there were digital displays controlling the overhead aerial holograms of jolly J.J. reminding everyone, “As my guest at Krazy Karnival, it’s your job to have fun!”

  Harley entered the Game Zone. Her heart was racing. So much to see and do!

  “Step right up! Test your strength! Who will show ’em how it’s done?” The burly carnival worker wearing a teeny top hat was holding up a sledgehammer. “Ring the bell and win a prize! Who will be next? How about you, girlie? Think you’re strong enough to ring the bell?”

  Harley looked at the shiny bell at the top of the Strength Test. “Hit this target down here,” the carnival worker explained. “And the puck goes up. If you’re strong enough and it goes high enough, it hits the bell and you win a prize!”

  That was all that Harley had to hear. “I’m game!” she shouted, twirling her mallet in one hand. “And I don’t need you
r sledgehammer. I brought something of my own.”

  Setting up her camera to make sure this was streaming live, Harley got in position. She gripped her mallet tight and focused on the target. Then, with all her might, she brought her mallet down hard.

  Cheers rose all around. The worker’s jaw hung open. Harley had hit the target so hard that the puck broke through the Strength Test game and sent the bell sailing into the air.

  “There’s my prize!” Harley announced, catching the solid metal bell before it hit the ground. “I’m keeping this!”

  Harley bowed to the cheering crowd as she walked on. She could not believe how much fun everyone was having. It was as if they were in a haze of happiness. She hooted to Cheetah and Star Sapphire, who were wearing fetching hats (a beret for Cheetah, a crown for Sapphire) and taking selfies. Both smiled warmly at Harley and hooted back.

  “I’m getting a headache,” Miss Martian said softly. She adjusted her flowerpot hat.

  By then, Bumblebee had left them to join Katana and Big Barda on the Rock ’n’ Roller Coaster—where you sat in faux boulders as they plummeted down a mountain. Also on the ride were several members of the Korugar Academy marching band. Every time the roller coaster went around a bend or dove down, instead of screaming they played their instruments as loudly as possible.

  “This isn’t helping my headache,” Miss Martian whimpered.

  “Too much fun can do that to you, if you’re not used to it,” Harley explained. “I never get headaches.”

  “I think I need to sit down,” Miss Martian said. She looked wobbly. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up later.”

  The Green Team made their way past, all holding up ice cream cones as if they were Olympic torches.

  “Okay,” Harley said to Miss Martian. “See you in a bit. I’m off to find J.J.”

  He had to be somewhere, right? After all, this was his carnival. Harley knew what he looked like. The roundish face. The wide smile. The twinkling eyes. And that hat! That outlandish top hat with sparkles and lights on it. How could you miss someone who looks like that?