Super (Book 2): Super Duper (10 page)

“And I told them that I could get another check from
my dad to pay the dues. And then I just basically told them
that I really wanted my license and I would try to prove it to
them if they gave the chance.” We all headed over to Shogun
to eat and for the first time ever, I caught the shrimp when
the chef did his trick. The place was pretty deserted and we
had a table to ourselves. So after the chef did his thing, I felt
comfortable filling my family in about the whole audit from
start to finish, without mentioning anything that I really
couldn’t say in public.

Ella chewed her steak carefully and swallowed. “Did
you mean that?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I really hope they let me
keep my license. And not because I don’t know what I’d do
without it. It’s because there’s nothing else I’d rather do. . .
even if it doesn’t pay anything.”
“And that’s what you call a
calling
.” Dad clinked my
beer bottle with his in a mock toast before taking a swig. “Oh!
I forgot to tell you that I picked up the pictures.”
“Gimme!” Mom cried, practically leaping across the
table at him. It was shocking. Not the fact that she was going
bat shit crazy to see them. It was the fact that she used the
word “gimme.”
“Hold on, woman! They’re right here in my jacket.”
Dad pulled out a fat envelope from his inside jacket pocket.
Mom grabbed it from him and spread the photos out on the
table among the plates and food. We all got quiet and leaned
in to get a good look.
They were terrible. But not just terrible. These were
the worst pictures I’d seen of any of us. Depending on which
frame the picture came from, we were alternately looking
angry, miserable, cross eyed, raggedy, or cut completely out
of the picture. I looked like I was being held at gun point. Ella
was scowling. Mom’s eyes were closed. And Dad looked like
a large, angry penguin. There was not one useable picture
there. Not one.
No one said anything. The unnatural silence was thick
and covered us all. And finally, there was a strangled sound
coming from Dad. He had his head down. Then he lifted his
head and his eyes were wet and glassy. He was laughing. He
was laughing so hard he was crying. He laid his head back on
the table and pounded it with his fist in time to his laughing.
Just watching him, I couldn’t help but laugh, too. It
started with a few snorts and then got going into a full-on
belly laugh. Soon, Ella was joining us. Only Mom was sitting
quietly as we laughed on.
Finally, Dad got up, still laughing, and went to Mom.
As wrapped an arm around her and half hugged her. “Honey,
it’s funny. C’mon! It’s funny. Just laugh. Laugh, dammit!”
And that wiped away the last of her resistance. She started
with a small chuckle and quickly built into a roaring laughter.
It was the best celebration dinner I’d attended. And
the best part was that this time it was for me. I just hope I
deserved it.

Between the belly laughs at dinner and the to-go box
my parents let me take from the restaurant, I was in a good
mood when I got off the subway and walked down the street
toward my building. Sure, my hearing decision was still
up in the air. But, I’d done everything I could at this point.
I wouldn’t know anything until the Council was ready for
me to know. That could be tomorrow or in six months. Until
then, I had leftover shrimp fried rice and pork egg rolls to tide
me over.

As I opened the door to my apartment, a sour smell
washed over me. I put my hand over my nose. “Damn, what
is that?” I asked Crash. He did the fish equivalent of putting
his hands on his hips—which is to say he darted back and
forth in his bowl—as if to say “You know what it is. Take out
the garbage, will ya?”

“OK, OK,” I said, grabbing the bag from the can. “It’s
not like I have any help around here with the chores. I think
we need to make a chore wheel or something.” I dragged the
bag out of the apartment, out of the front door, and around to
the alley where the building’s trash cans were.

Mike was standing there holding his own trash bag.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I said back.
He threw his bag onto the pile. We stood there in the
darkening alley staring at the ground, the alley walls, the
garbage—anything not to look at each other. Mike broke the
silence first. “For a super, you sure do dress nicely.”
“Excuse me?”
He pointed to my black dress and blazer. “Yuri never
looked so good.”
I didn’t know what to say. I finally settled on “Well, I
clean up OK.”
He just nodded and we stood there nodding together
like idiots in silence for a moment. Then we both tried to talk
at the same time.
“About the other day—”
“I don’t want things to be—”
He started again. “No, let me go first, Audrey. I don’t
want things to be awkward between us because of what I said
the other day. I thought that there was something interesting
between us. You know, on the roof. Maybe I read that wrong.
It wouldn’t be the first time I misunderstood something.”
I swallowed. “OK.”
“And if it’s not that—if you think you want to pursue
something—I need you to be the one to make the next move.
I’m not going to chase you. You have to meet me halfway,”
he finished.
I swallowed again. “OK.”
You should like an idiot
, I
thought to myself. But I couldn’t think of anything else to
say. I was standing there holding a bag of trash, looking like
the dumbest person in the world.
Mike just stared at me again, like he was waiting
for something to happen. And then he sighed. “OK, then.
Have a good evening, Audrey.” And he walked away. As he
disappeared from sight, I just stood there watching him go.
Suddenly I heard a rustling from the garbage. That
wasn’t unusual. It was probably rats. But then the rustling
got bigger and bigger. If that was a rat, I didn’t want to be
there when it came out. I turned to go but realized that I still
holding the garbage bag. I turned back to the trash to see
Outside Bob pop up out of the mountain of bags.
I screamed before I could help myself. “What are you
doing?”
“What are
you
doing?” he yelled back. “Obviously you
like that guy. Obviously he likes you. When someone you like
says something like that to you, you don’t stand here with a
bag of trash like an asshole. You go get him before he comes
to senses.”
It took a moment to recognize what he was saying. It
was just a moment but a moment is a long time when you’re
standing in an alley listening to a man climb out of a dumpster
to give you relationship advice.
I knew what to do.
I threw the garbage bag into the dumpster and
narrowly missed Bob. Then I ran back down the alley after
Mike. Behind me, I heard Outside Bob yell out a very sarcastic
“You’re
welcome
!”
I caught up with Mike on the front stoop of the
building. “Hey!”
He turned around. “Hey to you, too. Again.”
“Mike, I’m kind of a fuck up,” I started. There’s a lot
of stuff that I’m not good at. I have secrets. I have shit I’m
dealing with. And in the past, I’ve let that stuff keep me from
connecting with other people. But I think it’s time for me to
try new things,” I finished.
Mike got a serious look on his face. “Are you a
criminal?”
“No.”
“Are you a dude?”
“No.”
“All right then. Everything else, I’m willing to learn as
we get to it. What’s your Friday night look like?”
Like pizza and laundry
, I thought. But I said “Like wide
open.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“You know where I live.” Mike gave me a little wave
and went back into the building.
Just then, Outside Bob came wandering out of the alley.
He stood next to me, looking up at the front of the building.
“If you two have kids, you should definitely name them Bob.
And the beauty of it is that it could work for a boy
or
a girl.”

“Audrey Hart?” I turned back from watching Mike
walk back into the building to see a UPS delivery guy in a
truck at the curb. He was leaning out of the window and
calling my name.

“Yeah that’s her,” Bob called back. I gave him a
dirty look and he shrugged. “What? You got warrants or
something?”

I ignored him and walked over to the UPS truck. The
driver handed me an electronic clipboard. “Sign this.” I did
the deed and he handed me an envelope. I fished a crumpled
tip from my jeans pocket and handed it over. He gave me a
little mock salute and drove off.

I saw that this envelope didn’t have a return address,
I knew who it was from. Sure I’d just left my hearing hours
ago, but this was the Council we were talking about. I ripped
it open and fished out the letter.

Bob tried to look over my shoulder. “What’s that?”
I scooted away so he couldn’t see and skimmed the
page past my name and some mumbo jumbo about the audit
process until I got to a bolded paragraph in the middle:
It is the decision of the Council that you may keep your
license at this time. This notification signals the conclusion of
your audit.
“YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!” I
screamed. “YES! YES! YES!” I threw the paper up in the air
and ran in a circle around Bob, who eyed me suspiciously.
And then I grabbed Bob and gave him a big bear hug.
“Hey! Let me go!” he shouted. “You smell funny!”
I let go of him and he immediately took a few steps
away from me. “I’m sorry, Bob. I’m just so happy. You have
no idea.”
“What happened? Did you win the lottery or
something?” he asked.
I couldn’t stop grinning. “I feel like it. I really feel like
I won a million dollars.”
Bob looked down the street. “Hey, I have to go.”
“Where would you have to go?”
“You think you’re the only one with secrets?” He didn’t
wait for the answer. He just started wandering down the
street at a pace that didn’t read that he was in a hurry at all.
“And you dropped something,” he called over his shoulder.
I looked down and saw that he was right. I picked up
the small piece of paper and recognized the stationary header
right away. The note was from Miss Fine.

Please allow me to send you hearty congratulations on the
conclusion of your audit. Obviously your pitiful plea to the Board
was well received and you have been allowed keep your license for
now. But I want you to know that I will be keeping an eye on you.
Did you know that there is no limit on how many random audits
you can have during the lifetime of your Super license? Good luck
on your probation. You’ll need it.

Miss Fine,
Senior Auditor
Super Council

I read the note twice.
Probation?
I thought.
I went back to the original notice and skimmed through
it slower. I found it right beneath where I stopped reading
the first time. In the next paragraph, it said The Council was
putting me on a year probation. If I had any citations during
that time, I’d be back in front of the Board. That included a
hundred hours of community service. Not only that, I had to
complete a six week supervised work study with a mentor
before I could go back to working on my own.
I read that little paragraph at least four times. I didn’t
know what to think. A minute ago, I’d felt like I’d won the
lottery. I’d even hugged Outside Bob. But now it was clear
that I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.
Fuck.

Princess Jones is a fantasy author with an obsession with the
stories we tell ourselves over and over. Super is the first in her
ongoing series about a nontraditional super hero.

Jones currently lives in Austin, TX with her husband and a
constantly revolving menagerie of stray people and animals.
She spends her time reading good books, watching bad television, and trying to teach her dogs to drive to Chipotle.

I’d like to thank my husband, Chris, for baking me cakes and
buying me video games and loving me. Especially the loving
me part.

Thank you to my friends and family for believing me. Thank
you to all of the people who encouraged, edited, beta tested,
pushed, cajoled, and nagged me until I finished. I owe you all
beers.

Thank you for taking the time to read this book! I hope you
enjoyed Super. If you have a moment, please help others en-
joy this book, too.

Review it.
Tell others why you liked this book by leaving a
review for the next reader. If you do write a review, please
send me a link to your review at [email protected].
I’d like to thank you with a free copy of one of my other books.