Emma closed the air vent. Nan always made the car too cold. Despite the warm weather, she wished she’d brought a jacket for the car ride to Dredgetown. Nan drove past the shady used car shop and the women in the teeny, tiny skirts that dotted the side of Harling Way despite the cold weather.

“The Portland Prowler and the Springton Angel have been taken into custody. As well as a teen girl who got caught moving things with her mind,” one of the radio DJs reported.

“The government has it out for any supers who dare to use their powers,” another DJ said.

“Dare to use,” Nan snorted. “Those freaks are dangerous. The government should be on the lookout for them. They need to be kept under control.”

“That Geek Fire girl saved Hannah,” Emma said. She wanted to turn off the radio and end the conversation that way, but she wasn’t allowed to touch it. Besides Nan was engaging with the show, which would make it even worse if Emma turned it off. She didn’t know what to do, and Ollie was stuck in the back seat listening to Nan’s vitriol.

“I’m glad Hannah’s okay,” Nan admitted. “But think, girls. Think! Do you want someone who can open her mouth and shoot fireballs next to you? What if she loses control? What if she gets mad at you? It’s worse than someone carrying an unregistered gun.”

The DJs were having a similar argument. One was sympathetic to the supers, saying no one asked to get these powers, but Nan and the other two DJs talked about the hunt for superheroes in such glowing terms. They didn’t get that supers were just people who’d gotten slapped with unwanted powers and were trying to do the right thing.

The DJs came to an impasse and put on a song.

Nan hummed along.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Harrison,” Ollie said for the millionth time. “I appreciate you taking us shopping for the masquerade.”

“Of course. Unlike my granddaughter, you didn’t miss any assignments, and well… That Natalie Ngo woman claims it wasn’t Emma’s fault… though I still don’t see how not turning in an assignment is anything but her fault.” Nan harrumphed. “Anyway, it’s not like you—”

“Thank you, Nan,” Emma didn’t need Nan going on about it again because she’d talk herself into a circle, grounding Emma again, despite everyone’s best efforts. “I’m really excited about this dance. It’ll be a good chance to see my friends and be a part of the school.”

Nan glanced at her from the driver’s seat.

Emma tried to sit up, feeling as though she’d done something wrong. She never knew what was right to say or when she should keep her mouth shut. Most of the time, she was better off keeping her mouth shut. Was this her black and white thinking though? Nan’s mouth was pursed, and now she was spiraling into thinking that something wrong when maybe Nan wasn’t really even making a face.

“I’m glad to let you be a part of high school.” Nan’s took in a deep breath and released it, focusing on the road again. “Just don’t go too far with any of those boys—”

“Nan,” Emma shouted. “I would never!”

Somehow, Nan was already pulling into the Outlet’s narrow parking lot. She squeezed her Oldsmobile into the small space between a big van and a beat-up, brown slug bug. The Outlet was a place of dreams, steampunk globes, and, hopefully, masquerade and superhero costume elements that Emma and Ollie could play off as potential masquerade costumes.

“I thought… I thought we were going to the Avalon Mall?” Ollie asked, her voice small.

Emma looked at the big pink cinderblock building, the word “Outlet” painted in huge green letters and shrugged. “The Outlet is our first stop when we go shopping. They’ve got the best things here, especially for the masquerade. You’ll see.”

Emma led her friend to the front of the store, and seeing Ollie’s reaction, noticed the bars along the windows and the rolled up metal sheeting that rolled down to block the windows when the store was closed. Even if it wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, the Outlet was safe. It was full of cheap things and all kinds of practically magic stuff. They’d be fine.

Inside the store, Nan headed to the wall of books between the clothing section and the knick-knacks room.

“Haven’t seen you here for a while,” the cashier, a young black woman whose name tag read Roshanda, said.

“Been grounded.” Emma shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“She knows you?” Ollie whispered.

Emma didn’t say anything. Sometimes, strangers recognized her and knew her name more than she liked.

“Who’s your friend?” Roshanda asked.

“We’re going shopping for the spring dance.” Emma dragged Ollie straight ahead into the crowded racks of clothes, the women’s rack was first—though if Ollie wanted to be the Phantom of the Opera, she’d have to check out the men’s racks for suits. The top of each rack of clothes was covered in shoes, hats, purses, masks, headbands, and other small wearable items.

“This is the best place for costumes for the masquerade.” Emma pulled down an elaborate lavender hat, with flowers and netting. She popped it on her friend’s head and laughed.

“Are you sure this place is… is safe?” Ollie put the hat back.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Emma said.

“Umm… the bars on all the windows? How nothing is out front of the store? The big safe that says that the clerks can’t access it. Want me to go on?”

She’d never really noticed that before. “We’re fine. Nan and I come here most weekends when I’m not grounded. It’s where I get all my best clothes.”

“It’s never been robbed or anything?” Ollie asked.

“Don' think so.” Emma was busy digging through shirts and dresses on the crowded racks. Nothing was working for her masquerade costume.

After a while, Ollie seemed to come around and started digging through the racks and pawing at the clothes. She picked up a simple brown purse from the top of the rack.

“You thinking about getting that?” Emma asked. Somehow, she couldn’t picture her tomboyish friend wearing a purse.

“I hate purses. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always losing things anyway, but for you…”

“Oh, no. I can’t carry a purse. I have enough trouble keeping track of my backpack.” Emma reached for the purse to put it back on top of the rack.

“You might have to carry one to hide… for the makeup and stuff.” Ollie dropped her voice. “That or like, cargo pants.”

“Get that gun out of my store!” Roshanda shouted. She sounded pissed. A baby started crying.

Emma froze. Ollie dropped the purse.

“Shut up!” a man shouted. “Give me all the money in the safe.”

“I can’t,” the cashier said.

Hands shaking, Emma inched her way towards the front of the store. She was a superhero but hadn’t brought the stupid green makeup or the costume with her. So, she was just Emma.

How could she hide who she was and get close enough to blast the robber? Of course. The racks were stuffed with potential disguises.

Emma grabbed an oversized shirt and put it on over her own clothes.

She needed to stop the robber without Nan recognizing her.

Without the cameras filming her.

Without anyone identifying her.

Poop on a Poptart.

“Open the safe.” The man wore a ski mask and waved a handgun in Roshanda’s face.

“I can’t,” Roshanda repeated. She tapped the words one by one as she read them from the sign in front of her. “Clerks. Do. Not. Have. Access. To. Safe. Contents.”

“Bull.”

Emma pulled a thin cotton shirt over the top half of her face. She could see through the shirt better than she had with the mask in the parking lot. Roshanda shook her head, mouthing, “Get away.”

The tension in Emma’s jaw promised a gleek-sneeze. She was still far enough in the racks no one but Roshanda noticed her. Nan was on the other side of the store, Emma had the shirt over her eyes for the security cameras.

“Put the gun down,” Emma said. “And get out of the store.”

She meant her voice to sound threatening and strong. Instead it came out as a little squeak. Why wasn’t her voice powerful like Ice Queen’s?

“What you doing, little girl?” The man waved the gun in her direction.

Emma kicked off the ground, levitating. The gun wavered.

“I said put the gun down or experience the wrath of Geek—”

A red blur flashed by and the gun disappeared from the man’s hand.

“What the hell?” the man shouted.

“Apologize to Roshanda here or I’ll leave you tied up for the cops.” A skinny guy in a red all-over spandex Halloween costume leaned against the glass door like he was super relaxed, his skateboard propped up beside him. The Dredgetown Speedster.

Emma knew the stickers on the bottom of that skateboard. She knew that pose. She knew that voice, that hint of Spanish in the accent.

“Say what?” the man said. “I ain’t apologiz—”

The Speedster disappeared in a blur. The man fell to the floor, his arms and legs bound with clothes from the shopping racks.

“I told you to apologize. You okay, linda?” the boy asked Roshanda, then he leaned back against the door and Emma knew she was right.

“Andres?” Emma was still levitating a couple feet off the ground.

The Speedster spun towards her, then disappeared, skateboard and all.

Andres Almanazar was the Dredgetown Speedster.

Emma retreated into the aisles, stripping off her improvised costume, and grabbed the purse Ollie had dropped.

“I think you’re right,” Emma said, hands shaking, her jaw full of pressure ready to let loose a blast of geek fire. “I think I need a purse.”

And she needed to talk to Andres. He had this superhero thing down way better than she did.

After they’d all been interviewed by the cops, they piled back into Nan’s car.

Although the security camera showed footage of a girl levitating, no one had associated that girl with Emma. Thank goodness. She’d even bought the purse that Ollie had suggested she get. She needed somewhere to hide that giant green makeup stick, and she needed to start wearing the spandex ASAP.

“Told you that place wasn’t safe,” Ollie said from the backseat.

“No one got hurt, and that’s the important thing,” Nan said. “I’m not going to the mall today though.”

Emma pulled out her phone and messaged Andres. Saw you at the Outlet today. Let’s talk.

Nan chattered away her fear while Ollie sulked and Emma held her breath, waiting for Andres to answer.

That was you? Andres finally messaged back when Nan had almost reached Ollie’s house in Pueblo Lindo.

Emma hesitated. She wasn’t sure exactly what to say. Admit to being a superhero in a text seemed like a bad idea. And, if she was lucky, she’d see Andres at the speech tournament next weekend.

Still, this was more pressing than that. She needed to talk to him but didn’t want to leave any kind of electronic record, even talking on the phone seemed dangerous. She didn’t want Agent Johnson or the Super Commission to catch on to her.

When can we meet?

Emma closed the air vent. Nan always made the car too cold. Despite the warm weather, she wished she’d brought a jacket for the car ride to Dredgetown. Nan drove past the shady used car shop and the women in the teeny, tiny skirts that dotted the side of Harling Way despite the cold weather.

“The Portland Prowler and the Springton Angel have been taken into custody. As well as a teen girl who got caught moving things with her mind,” one of the radio DJs reported.

“The government has it out for any supers who dare to use their powers,” another DJ said.

“Dare to use,” Nan snorted. “Those freaks are dangerous. The government should be on the lookout for them. They need to be kept under control.”

“That Geek Fire girl saved Hannah,” Emma said. She wanted to turn off the radio and end the conversation that way, but she wasn’t allowed to touch it. Besides Nan was engaging with the show, which would make it even worse if Emma turned it off. She didn’t know what to do, and Ollie was stuck in the back seat listening to Nan’s vitriol.

“I’m glad Hannah’s okay,” Nan admitted. “But think, girls. Think! Do you want someone who can open her mouth and shoot fireballs next to you? What if she loses control? What if she gets mad at you? It’s worse than someone carrying an unregistered gun.”

The DJs were having a similar argument. One was sympathetic to the supers, saying no one asked to get these powers, but Nan and the other two DJs talked about the hunt for superheroes in such glowing terms. They didn’t get that supers were just people who’d gotten slapped with unwanted powers and were trying to do the right thing.

The DJs came to an impasse and put on a song.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Nan hummed along.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Harrison,” Ollie said for the millionth time. “I appreciate you taking us shopping for the masquerade.”

“Of course. Unlike my granddaughter, you didn’t miss any assignments, and well… That Natalie Ngo woman claims it wasn’t Emma’s fault… though I still don’t see how not turning in an assignment is anything but her fault.” Nan harrumphed. “Anyway, it’s not like you—”

“Thank you, Nan,” Emma didn’t need Nan going on about it again because she’d talk herself into a circle, grounding Emma again, despite everyone’s best efforts. “I’m really excited about this dance. It’ll be a good chance to see my friends and be a part of the school.”

Nan glanced at her from the driver’s seat.

Emma tried to sit up, feeling as though she’d done something wrong. She never knew what was right to say or when she should keep her mouth shut. Most of the time, she was better off keeping her mouth shut. Was this her black and white thinking though? Nan’s mouth was pursed, and now she was spiraling into thinking that something wrong when maybe Nan wasn’t really even making a face.

“I’m glad to let you be a part of high school.” Nan’s took in a deep breath and released it, focusing on the road again. “Just don’t go too far with any of those boys—”

“Nan,” Emma shouted. “I would never!”

Somehow, Nan was already pulling into the Outlet’s narrow parking lot. She squeezed her Oldsmobile into the small space between a big van and a beat-up, brown slug bug. The Outlet was a place of dreams, steampunk globes, and, hopefully, masquerade and superhero costume elements that Emma and Ollie could play off as potential masquerade costumes.

“I thought… I thought we were going to the Avalon Mall?” Ollie asked, her voice small.

Emma looked at the big pink cinderblock building, the word “Outlet” painted in huge green letters and shrugged. “The Outlet is our first stop when we go shopping. They’ve got the best things here, especially for the masquerade. You’ll see.”

Emma led her friend to the front of the store, and seeing Ollie’s reaction, noticed the bars along the windows and the rolled up metal sheeting that rolled down to block the windows when the store was closed. Even if it wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, the Outlet was safe. It was full of cheap things and all kinds of practically magic stuff. They’d be fine.

Inside the store, Nan headed to the wall of books between the clothing section and the knick-knacks room.

“Haven’t seen you here for a while,” the cashier, a young black woman whose name tag read Roshanda, said.

“Been grounded.” Emma shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“She knows you?” Ollie whispered.

Emma didn’t say anything. Sometimes, strangers recognized her and knew her name more than she liked.

“Who’s your friend?” Roshanda asked.

“We’re going shopping for the spring dance.” Emma dragged Ollie straight ahead into the crowded racks of clothes, the women’s rack was first—though if Ollie wanted to be the Phantom of the Opera, she’d have to check out the men’s racks for suits. The top of each rack of clothes was covered in shoes, hats, purses, masks, headbands, and other small wearable items.

“This is the best place for costumes for the masquerade.” Emma pulled down an elaborate lavender hat, with flowers and netting. She popped it on her friend’s head and laughed.

“Are you sure this place is… is safe?” Ollie put the hat back.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Emma said.

“Umm… the bars on all the windows? How nothing is out front of the store? The big safe that says that the clerks can’t access it. Want me to go on?”

She’d never really noticed that before. “We’re fine. Nan and I come here most weekends when I’m not grounded. It’s where I get all my best clothes.”

“It’s never been robbed or anything?” Ollie asked.

“Don' think so.” Emma was busy digging through shirts and dresses on the crowded racks. Nothing was working for her masquerade costume.

After a while, Ollie seemed to come around and started digging through the racks and pawing at the clothes. She picked up a simple brown purse from the top of the rack.

“You thinking about getting that?” Emma asked. Somehow, she couldn’t picture her tomboyish friend wearing a purse.

“I hate purses. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always losing things anyway, but for you…”

“Oh, no. I can’t carry a purse. I have enough trouble keeping track of my backpack.” Emma reached for the purse to put it back on top of the rack.

“You might have to carry one to hide… for the makeup and stuff.” Ollie dropped her voice. “That or like, cargo pants.”

“Get that gun out of my store!” Roshanda shouted. She sounded pissed. A baby started crying.

Emma froze. Ollie dropped the purse.

“Shut up!” a man shouted. “Give me all the money in the safe.”

“I can’t,” the cashier said.

Hands shaking, Emma inched her way towards the front of the store. She was a superhero but hadn’t brought the stupid green makeup or the costume with her. So, she was just Emma.

How could she hide who she was and get close enough to blast the robber? Of course. The racks were stuffed with potential disguises.

Emma grabbed an oversized shirt and put it on over her own clothes.

She needed to stop the robber without Nan recognizing her.

Without the cameras filming her.

Without anyone identifying her.

Poop on a Poptart.

“Open the safe.” The man wore a ski mask and waved a handgun in Roshanda’s face.

“I can’t,” Roshanda repeated. She tapped the words one by one as she read them from the sign in front of her. “Clerks. Do. Not. Have. Access. To. Safe. Contents.”

“Bull.”

Emma pulled a thin cotton shirt over the top half of her face. She could see through the shirt better than she had with the mask in the parking lot. Roshanda shook her head, mouthing, “Get away.”

The tension in Emma’s jaw promised a gleek-sneeze. She was still far enough in the racks no one but Roshanda noticed her. Nan was on the other side of the store, Emma had the shirt over her eyes for the security cameras.

“Put the gun down,” Emma said. “And get out of the store.”

She meant her voice to sound threatening and strong. Instead it came out as a little squeak. Why wasn’t her voice powerful like Ice Queen’s?

“What you doing, little girl?” The man waved the gun in her direction.

Emma kicked off the ground, levitating. The gun wavered.

“I said put the gun down or experience the wrath of Geek—”

A red blur flashed by and the gun disappeared from the man’s hand.

“What the hell?” the man shouted.

“Apologize to Roshanda here or I’ll leave you tied up for the cops.” A skinny guy in a red all-over spandex Halloween costume leaned against the glass door like he was super relaxed, his skateboard propped up beside him. The Dredgetown Speedster.

Emma knew the stickers on the bottom of that skateboard. She knew that pose. She knew that voice, that hint of Spanish in the accent.

“Say what?” the man said. “I ain’t apologiz—”

The Speedster disappeared in a blur. The man fell to the floor, his arms and legs bound with clothes from the shopping racks.

“I told you to apologize. You okay, linda?” the boy asked Roshanda, then he leaned back against the door and Emma knew she was right.

“Andres?” Emma was still levitating a couple feet off the ground.

The Speedster spun towards her, then disappeared, skateboard and all.

Andres Almanazar was the Dredgetown Speedster.

Emma retreated into the aisles, stripping off her improvised costume, and grabbed the purse Ollie had dropped.

“I think you’re right,” Emma said, hands shaking, her jaw full of pressure ready to let loose a blast of geek fire. “I think I need a purse.”

And she needed to talk to Andres. He had this superhero thing down way better than she did.

After they’d all been interviewed by the cops, they piled back into Nan’s car.

Although the security camera showed footage of a girl levitating, no one had associated that girl with Emma. Thank goodness. She’d even bought the purse that Ollie had suggested she get. She needed somewhere to hide that giant green makeup stick, and she needed to start wearing the spandex ASAP.

“Told you that place wasn’t safe,” Ollie said from the backseat.

“No one got hurt, and that’s the important thing,” Nan said. “I’m not going to the mall today though.”

Emma pulled out her phone and messaged Andres. Saw you at the Outlet today. Let’s talk.

Nan chattered away her fear while Ollie sulked and Emma held her breath, waiting for Andres to answer.

That was you? Andres finally messaged back when Nan had almost reached Ollie’s house in Pueblo Lindo.

Emma hesitated. She wasn’t sure exactly what to say. Admit to being a superhero in a text seemed like a bad idea. And, if she was lucky, she’d see Andres at the speech tournament next weekend.

Still, this was more pressing than that. She needed to talk to him but didn’t want to leave any kind of electronic record, even talking on the phone seemed dangerous. She didn’t want Agent Johnson or the Super Commission to catch on to her.

When can we meet?

Emma closed the air vent. Nan always made the car too cold. Despite the warm weather, she wished she’d brought a jacket for the car ride to Dredgetown. Nan drove past the shady used car shop and the women in the teeny, tiny skirts that dotted the side of Harling Way despite the cold weather.

“The Portland Prowler and the Springton Angel have been taken into custody. As well as a teen girl who got caught moving things with her mind,” one of the radio DJs reported.

“The government has it out for any supers who dare to use their powers,” another DJ said.

“Dare to use,” Nan snorted. “Those freaks are dangerous. The government should be on the lookout for them. They need to be kept under control.”

“That Geek Fire girl saved Hannah,” Emma said. She wanted to turn off the radio and end the conversation that way, but she wasn’t allowed to touch it. Besides Nan was engaging with the show, which would make it even worse if Emma turned it off. She didn’t know what to do, and Ollie was stuck in the back seat listening to Nan’s vitriol.

“I’m glad Hannah’s okay,” Nan admitted. “But think, girls. Think! Do you want someone who can open her mouth and shoot fireballs next to you? What if she loses control? What if she gets mad at you? It’s worse than someone carrying an unregistered gun.”

The DJs were having a similar argument. One was sympathetic to the supers, saying no one asked to get these powers, but Nan and the other two DJs talked about the hunt for superheroes in such glowing terms. They didn’t get that supers were just people who’d gotten slapped with unwanted powers and were trying to do the right thing.

The DJs came to an impasse and put on a song.

Nan hummed along.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Harrison,” Ollie said for the millionth time. “I appreciate you taking us shopping for the masquerade.”

“Of course. Unlike my granddaughter, you didn’t miss any assignments, and well… That Natalie Ngo woman claims it wasn’t Emma’s fault… though I still don’t see how not turning in an assignment is anything but her fault.” Nan harrumphed. “Anyway, it’s not like you—”

“Thank you, Nan,” Emma didn’t need Nan going on about it again because she’d talk herself into a circle, grounding Emma again, despite everyone’s best efforts. “I’m really excited about this dance. It’ll be a good chance to see my friends and be a part of the school.”

Nan glanced at her from the driver’s seat.

Emma tried to sit up, feeling as though she’d done something wrong. She never knew what was right to say or when she should keep her mouth shut. Most of the time, she was better off keeping her mouth shut. Was this her black and white thinking though? Nan’s mouth was pursed, and now she was spiraling into thinking that something wrong when maybe Nan wasn’t really even making a face.

“I’m glad to let you be a part of high school.” Nan’s took in a deep breath and released it, focusing on the road again. “Just don’t go too far with any of those boys—”

“Nan,” Emma shouted. “I would never!”

Somehow, Nan was already pulling into the Outlet’s narrow parking lot. She squeezed her Oldsmobile into the small space between a big van and a beat-up, brown slug bug. The Outlet was a place of dreams, steampunk globes, and, hopefully, masquerade and superhero costume elements that Emma and Ollie could play off as potential masquerade costumes.

“I thought… I thought we were going to the Avalon Mall?” Ollie asked, her voice small.

Emma looked at the big pink cinderblock building, the word “Outlet” painted in huge green letters and shrugged. “The Outlet is our first stop when we go shopping. They’ve got the best things here, especially for the masquerade. You’ll see.”

Emma led her friend to the front of the store, and seeing Ollie’s reaction, noticed the bars along the windows and the rolled up metal sheeting that rolled down to block the windows when the store was closed. Even if it wasn’t the best of neighborhoods, the Outlet was safe. It was full of cheap things and all kinds of practically magic stuff. They’d be fine.

Inside the store, Nan headed to the wall of books between the clothing section and the knick-knacks room.

“Haven’t seen you here for a while,” the cashier, a young black woman whose name tag read Roshanda, said.

“Been grounded.” Emma shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“She knows you?” Ollie whispered.

Emma didn’t say anything. Sometimes, strangers recognized her and knew her name more than she liked.

“Who’s your friend?” Roshanda asked.

“We’re going shopping for the spring dance.” Emma dragged Ollie straight ahead into the crowded racks of clothes, the women’s rack was first—though if Ollie wanted to be the Phantom of the Opera, she’d have to check out the men’s racks for suits. The top of each rack of clothes was covered in shoes, hats, purses, masks, headbands, and other small wearable items.

“This is the best place for costumes for the masquerade.” Emma pulled down an elaborate lavender hat, with flowers and netting. She popped it on her friend’s head and laughed.

“Are you sure this place is… is safe?” Ollie put the hat back.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Emma said.

“Umm… the bars on all the windows? How nothing is out front of the store? The big safe that says that the clerks can’t access it. Want me to go on?”

She’d never really noticed that before. “We’re fine. Nan and I come here most weekends when I’m not grounded. It’s where I get all my best clothes.”

“It’s never been robbed or anything?” Ollie asked.

“Don' think so.” Emma was busy digging through shirts and dresses on the crowded racks. Nothing was working for her masquerade costume.

After a while, Ollie seemed to come around and started digging through the racks and pawing at the clothes. She picked up a simple brown purse from the top of the rack.

“You thinking about getting that?” Emma asked. Somehow, she couldn’t picture her tomboyish friend wearing a purse.

“I hate purses. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always losing things anyway, but for you…”

“Oh, no. I can’t carry a purse. I have enough trouble keeping track of my backpack.” Emma reached for the purse to put it back on top of the rack.

“You might have to carry one to hide… for the makeup and stuff.” Ollie dropped her voice. “That or like, cargo pants.”

“Get that gun out of my store!” Roshanda shouted. She sounded pissed. A baby started crying.

Emma froze. Ollie dropped the purse.

“Shut up!” a man shouted. “Give me all the money in the safe.”

“I can’t,” the cashier said.

Hands shaking, Emma inched her way towards the front of the store. She was a superhero but hadn’t brought the stupid green makeup or the costume with her. So, she was just Emma.

How could she hide who she was and get close enough to blast the robber? Of course. The racks were stuffed with potential disguises.

Emma grabbed an oversized shirt and put it on over her own clothes.

She needed to stop the robber without Nan recognizing her.

Without the cameras filming her.

Without anyone identifying her.

Poop on a Poptart.

“Open the safe.” The man wore a ski mask and waved a handgun in Roshanda’s face.

“I can’t,” Roshanda repeated. She tapped the words one by one as she read them from the sign in front of her. “Clerks. Do. Not. Have. Access. To. Safe. Contents.”

“Bull.”

Emma pulled a thin cotton shirt over the top half of her face. She could see through the shirt better than she had with the mask in the parking lot. Roshanda shook her head, mouthing, “Get away.”

The tension in Emma’s jaw promised a gleek-sneeze. She was still far enough in the racks no one but Roshanda noticed her. Nan was on the other side of the store, Emma had the shirt over her eyes for the security cameras.

“Put the gun down,” Emma said. “And get out of the store.”

She meant her voice to sound threatening and strong. Instead it came out as a little squeak. Why wasn’t her voice powerful like Ice Queen’s?

“What you doing, little girl?” The man waved the gun in her direction.

Emma kicked off the ground, levitating. The gun wavered.

“I said put the gun down or experience the wrath of Geek—”

A red blur flashed by and the gun disappeared from the man’s hand.

“What the hell?” the man shouted.

“Apologize to Roshanda here or I’ll leave you tied up for the cops.” A skinny guy in a red all-over spandex Halloween costume leaned against the glass door like he was super relaxed, his skateboard propped up beside him. The Dredgetown Speedster.

Emma knew the stickers on the bottom of that skateboard. She knew that pose. She knew that voice, that hint of Spanish in the accent.

“Say what?” the man said. “I ain’t apologiz—”

The Speedster disappeared in a blur. The man fell to the floor, his arms and legs bound with clothes from the shopping racks.

“I told you to apologize. You okay, linda?” the boy asked Roshanda, then he leaned back against the door and Emma knew she was right.

“Andres?” Emma was still levitating a couple feet off the ground.

The Speedster spun towards her, then disappeared, skateboard and all.

Andres Almanazar was the Dredgetown Speedster.

Emma retreated into the aisles, stripping off her improvised costume, and grabbed the purse Ollie had dropped.

“I think you’re right,” Emma said, hands shaking, her jaw full of pressure ready to let loose a blast of geek fire. “I think I need a purse.”

And she needed to talk to Andres. He had this superhero thing down way better than she did.

After they’d all been interviewed by the cops, they piled back into Nan’s car.

Although the security camera showed footage of a girl levitating, no one had associated that girl with Emma. Thank goodness. She’d even bought the purse that Ollie had suggested she get. She needed somewhere to hide that giant green makeup stick, and she needed to start wearing the spandex ASAP.

“Told you that place wasn’t safe,” Ollie said from the backseat.

“No one got hurt, and that’s the important thing,” Nan said. “I’m not going to the mall today though.”

Emma pulled out her phone and messaged Andres. Saw you at the Outlet today. Let’s talk.

Nan chattered away her fear while Ollie sulked and Emma held her breath, waiting for Andres to answer.

That was you? Andres finally messaged back when Nan had almost reached Ollie’s house in Pueblo Lindo.

Emma hesitated. She wasn’t sure exactly what to say. Admit to being a superhero in a text seemed like a bad idea. And, if she was lucky, she’d see Andres at the speech tournament next weekend.

Still, this was more pressing than that. She needed to talk to him but didn’t want to leave any kind of electronic record, even talking on the phone seemed dangerous. She didn’t want Agent Johnson or the Super Commission to catch on to her.

When can we meet?