I just realized I don’t have my hat. Eh, I’ll buy another one. The Atlanta Braves still exist here right? They were founded before 1982, and my head feels naked without them.

A probing fireball speeds toward me. He’s angry, but experienced. Interesting. I’m fighting the Hulk plus fire and a functioning brain. He’ll grow wings soon too. Peachy.

Push hard on left leg. Twist around it. Keep running. Slide. A stream fries a wide arc in the air and I skid under it like a baseball player to home plate. Safe! Almost there.

The music blares from my phone. ♪ Don’t be a stranger. ♪ I have it on a loop, unfortunately. As cool as changing songs midfight would be, I have to save some tricks for later.

Lung gives up on the projectiles and coats himself in fire again, settling into a stance. Is that Tai Chi? Lung knows martial arts? My respect for him rises a notch.

Ok. Wildbow downplayed how great of a fighter he is. Beating Brockton Bay’s Protectorate solo is much more believable now. If victory wasn’t guaranteed, and my fear response wasn’t shot to hell and back, I would be sweating.

It must be at least one fifty degrees, but it only warms me comfortably. This body probably doesn’t even need to sweat. Air conditioning was included. Mysterious benefactor has his priorities straight.

When I’m twenty feet away, Lung abruptly switches from bracing for close combat and sends another stream low, the other hand raised to catch my jump. Bait and punish. Damn, he’s sneaky.

The words direct me. Hold up the fire extinguisher. One two three jump! Flip over the stream. On cue, Lung launches another one.

I close one eye, more for the people watching than because I need to aim. Right there.

Squeeze for half a second. The powder sprays as I finish the flip. A hole in the blaze opens up just wide enough for me to dive through. Somersaulting to break my fall, the fire extinguisher held tight against my chest, I bounce towards him. Close enough now.

Wind up and throw. A red blur later and the bottom of the can cracks into the side of his mask. His guard was low. I’m not even six feet, and he towers over me. Not much of a point guarding your face when you’re that tall.

“Motherfucker!” Lung shouts, his voice already distorting but still recognizable.

BOOM!

Skip back. The air explodes with heat but I’m out of range. The canister flies away and lands on an unconscious gang member’s gun. The angle is just right, of course, and the gun skids away while the can rolls back in my direction. I consider picking one up. The path would be able to compensate.

It wouldn’t be as cool though.

His mask askew, Lung thrusts his hand and a much bigger fireball rockets for my face. The temperature doubles for a moment. He was sandbagging.

Cartwheel to dodge. I knew Worm said he was strong, but it didn’t say he was this tricky! No wonder he’s held out so long with only Oni Lee. Fighting both at once would be a death sentence.

Cartwheel again and grab the can. Does Oni know Tai Chi too? Would that stay after all those teleports?

Lung is ready this time, but adaptation can be adapted to. Fling the canister at him anyway and kick a piece of loose pavement.

Lung deflects the can, it heads back to me obviously, and the debris slips through the gap in his claws. The steel dragon mask shifts from the impact and blinds him. Sprint to him and yell, “Surprise!”, then catch the fire extinguisher and immediately back off.

BOOM!

An inferno ends just before my feet. This isn’t the Oni Lee fight. He might be blind, but he’s still dangerous. If I had tried to capitalize on his costume issues, I would have died.

That wasn’t the point though.

Pick up and chuck another rock, this time at his shoulder. I do and he roars, provoked. Lung tears off his mask and throws it like a frisbee in my direction. He wildly misses without me moving. The mask isn’t needed.

I meant for the path, otherwise I would’ve caught it, but also for Lung. His transformation is almost at the point of sprouting wings, and armor plating covers his face. Right now he’s too pissed to care.

“KILL OOOOOO!”

Very pissed. ♪ If I sound lazy just ignore my tone. ♪ The song has looped to the beginning and my heart pounds with the rhythm. I lose control and a wide grin splits my face. No! It isn’t over yet! Later!

His eyes are literally burning and find me crouched, still fighting a smile. He leaps. Holy crap he can leap. At least that was mentioned in the original.

The words sing. Drop to hands and knees then push. They haven’t failed me yet. All four limbs move in tandem and I hop like a frog, flashing beneath him just before he lands. Fire swirls as we pass each other, but nothing catches. How am I not burning at this point? This power is stupid good.

Only a few more steps.

Dash forward and slightly left. Lung spins around and the air simmers with heat as a fireball detonates where I was. Bend neck so the right ear touches the right shoulder. Another, smaller, but very fast fireball zips and I twitch my head to the side to avoid it. Run directly at him.

The words better not have set my hair on fire.

It’s the finale. Time slows. Ah, adrenaline. My old friend. Good to see you.

Wings sprout from Lung’s back. We’re so close.

Lunge for his face and twist, fire extinguisher out.

He roars in triumph, arm sweeping to knock me out of the air.

Smash the top of the can into his arm. I do and gain more lift, barely clearing the swipe.

The nozzle of the fire extinguisher pops off…

Drive the opening into his mouth. Ouch, that’s ruthless. I put my weight into the shove and the contents empty into his lungs. I wink at him. “Good game.”

How do you beat an opponent you can’t wound? Cut off their air supply. Even dragons need to breathe. Skitter killed Alexandria the same way.

I kick off his scales as Lung chokes. His claws fly to his mouth to pry the can out. Some of the powder shoots out of his nose. Did you know Lung’s head and lungs grow bigger when he escalates? I didn’t, but the path did. Perfect size.

That was not meant to be metaphor for sex. It really is the perfect size.

BOOM!

He explodes for like the gazillionth time, but I’m once again far enough away. You’d think he would’ve changed it up.

Catch that. My hand darts out and grabs a piece of debris while it flies by. How convenient. Throw. Winding up like a baseball pitcher, go Braves, I throw it at the ground. He’s bent over, so the piece ricochets off the street and smacks into the canister, driving it deeper.

BOOM!

His wings flap and he rises in the air only to come crash landing down. He’s panicking. To be fair, most people would too if they inhaled, I estimate the size, ten pounds of mom phosphate at the same time.

It’s not actually called mom phosphate, but I’m not willing to memorize the actual spelling.

The words let me go. I relax and walk backward. The path might say he isn’t a threat, but I’m not taking any chances coming close to racist Bowser.

BOOM!

See?

And here it comes.

I feel it bubble inside of me. The promise of euphoria swells. It won’t be denied for much longer. There’s no immediate danger, so I let it out.

I stop watching Lung thrash around on the street, and throw back my head.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha-”

Leaning against a building, the bricks scorched and lukewarm under my hand, the laughter spills out. I gasp for air, and break out in laughter again at the irony. So that’s what combat, real combat, is like?

“-hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”

The rush! I shake and slide down the wall. The flip trick! The Frogger imitation under Lung! Oh man! That was better than the police station stunt!

Hissing out of my teeth, I massage my checks. They hurt from smiling too wide. Why have I never done something like this before? Fighting is thrilling!

The noise of Lung’s temper tantrum slowly but surely recedes in volume. I close my eyes in rapture. Path! My buddy. My pal. My friend. I never doubted you, but you really outdid yourself this time!

“Mmmmmmmmm.”

I shudder in pleasure. Yes yes yes yes yes. No regrets. No doubts. I feel on top of the world.

My hand trembles and I force it to press the pause button. The street falls silent except for the crackle of fire. Peaceful, almost. Idiots rubbernecking to post something on PHO exist, but not many people in this neighborhood want to hang out around a Lung fight. They know better. I glance at the man in question.

He’s out cold. I don’t think I killed him, his power’s regeneration is supposed to be top notch and he survived nasty combination of spider poison and tranquilizers in the original, but if I did I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. He almost killed me.

I wheeze and calm down. He almost killed me. I catch myself, but not before a few more giggles slip out. Worth it! Another death denied.

A thought occurs to me and I don’t bother stopping myself from giggling this time. There’s a whole world like this out there! If Lung was this fun, what about Oni Lee? Or Kaiser? Or Echidna? Or Leviathan?! “Hehehehehe.”

What kind of nonsense will the path let me pull off there? “Hehehehehehehehe-” The sound of a motorcycle in the distance cuts me off. Oh, right, plot.

Should I mess with Armsmaster? I suddenly double over in laughter again. He would hate me like a cat hates the rain.

No. I shake my head, still laughing. I really need my hat. No. As much as I’d love to have a little fun for dessert, I’m full. I know better.

I’m addicted, and I know it. I’m already craving my next rush, my laughter tapers off, but I can wait. There’s such a thing as overstimulation. It feels great at first, but it’s never worth it afterwards. Believe me, I’ve tried it before. Moderation is my middle name.

Clara Moderation Ginge. Yeah, right.

Standing up, I scan the rooftops. A few buildings away I glimpse a figure duck down. There’s Taylor. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll bail before the Wards guilt trip speech.

I keep searching, my smile fading at the reminder of business, but the joy of a successful stunt still burns, ha, in my chest. Hmm.

Where did the Undersiders go? I wave my arms in the air and jump up and down. “Hi! I know you’re watching!”

----

Lisa motioned the others away and stared at the girl. Short red hair tangled as she shivered against the wall, cackling like a drugged up clown.

If you set aside the maniacal laughter, she looked… normal. Like a kid fresh out of high school. All that was missing was the backpack.

If Lisa had learned anything since she started working for Coil, it was don’t judge a book by its cover. Her power let her open up people’s lives whether they wanted it or not, and every time she did she found they were more than they seemed. Everyone wore a mask. From PRT directors to soccer moms, they all were hiding something.

But their masks weren’t perfect. Not even close. Facial expressions. Word choices. Even the way their feet pointed to a specific member of a group revealed a lot. All things anyone could pick up if they looked hard enough. Some people dedicated their lives to cold reading, usually in law enforcement, and their research was all out there for anyone to study.

So Lisa studied. She knew her power was top tier. Not in fighting, as nice as that would be, but in winning the information war before anything came to blows. ‘Knowledge is power’ had never been more true in her experience. Thinkers were some of the most successful supervillains out there, not because they were flashy and intimidating, but because they weren’t. Both Coil and Accord were prime examples. You wouldn’t even know a thinker had powers if they were careful.

It had its limits though. She needed correct information to begin from to use it properly, which is why she’d spent so many hours pouring over research and lectures from the greatest minds the investigative world had to offer. She wanted a baseline to work with so she could save her ability for things she wouldn’t be able to figure out as a normal person. Also, it was fun.

With that in mind, Lisa took in every detail of the girl’s appearance. She was still laughing.

She was just a teenager. Barely old enough to drive. Athletic, but that could be from her brute power. T-shirt. Sports shorts. Well worn shoes with grass stains. She spent a lot of time outdoors.

She’d also soloed Lung. The bug controller hadn’t done anything to help her during the fight, and there wasn’t a scratch on her. Combat thinker for sure. Experienced too. There had been no hesitation. She’d had the audacity to play a rap song during the whole thing. She’d done this before, and wasn’t worried at all. Out of town cape?

Lisa wasn’t detecting anything else important, so she let go of the stranglehold she held on her power and listened.

Ecstatic, no fear: unusual fear response presents as attraction to dangerous situations instead of avoidance.

Lisa raised an eyebrow. Really? No fear at all?

No fear, cautious: any residual fear response has been replaced with moderate caution, has experienced many dangerous situations before, has experienced many dangerous situations before over a long period of time.

Young, has experienced many dangerous situations before over a long period of time: unusual childhood in which she was exposed to risk, unusual childhood in which she purposefully exposed herself to risk

So this has been going on before her trigger. The girl glanced at Lung and giggled. Unusual childhood indeed. Would she want to join the Undersiders?

Erratic motion after combat: enjoys combat, excited over entering combat again.

The girl stopped herself for a moment, only to continue.

Pause between laughter: was attempting to hold laughter in, failed to hold laughter in, is addicted to high risk high reward scenarios, is addicted to high risk scenarios with no care for reward, is unable to stop herself from entering high risk scenarios after a short window of time, is unable to stop herself from entering high risk scenarios after about two to three days.

Lisa was feeling good about recruiting her until that last part.

The team was active, but not that active. This wasn’t like Bitch, where the psychopathy could be managed if you played nice with her dogs and didn’t threaten or joke with her. This wasn’t like Alec’s apathy either. This was an addict chasing her next high.

No amount of friendship or manipulation would change that. Not if it had been going on that long already. She’d been like this since she was…

Magnitude of euphoric response: addiction starting point was around nine to ten years old.

Holy shit. Where were her parents? She hadn’t even made it to double digits!

The purring of a motorcycle engine echoed far across the city.

Arms-

Yes, I know. Lisa’s eyes were still on the girl, who had heard it too. She was bending over in laughter now. Lisa had thought she had seen the worst of the worst when it came to insane parahumans. Rachel’s violence. Alec’s nothingness. Lung’s rage. Hookwolf’s bloodthirst. Kaiser’s charisma. Coil’s mindgames.

This was something else. Burnscar from the Slaughterhouse Nine might be able to compare, and she had been confined to a mental ward.

For once Lisa had nothing. Maybe she could offer a joint partnership. Rob some rich people or whatever Coil wanted and have her tag along for the fun, no payment necessary. With that kind of firepower… Well, there was a reason combat thinkers and investigative thinkers worked so well together. The Elite and Watchdog were full of them.

The problem was there was no guarantee she wouldn’t just attack them instead, or after the job, just because she was bored. Hell, she wasn’t even wearing a costume! Blackmail meant nothing if the target liked the consequences.

Laughter at the sound of Armsmaster’s vehicle, pause before laughter: knows Armsmaster is coming, has never met Armsmaster, has never heard the sound of Armsmaster’s vehicle, knowledge given by power.

Great. The addict is a precog.

The girl’s laughter abruptly ceased and she stood up. Her head lifted and Lisa quickly backed away before she could get spotted. A strong precog. Or a weird pericog. Not likely though. She clearly knew what Lung was going to do every second of that fight. Maybe intention detection and prediction plus a brute package?

Lisa saw the bug girl’s head go down a few rooftops away. That one was much more promising. A master with an endless supply of disposable minions. She can sense where her bugs are too, which would be amazing synergy with Grue. The dogs were the team’s frontliners in a fight, and a mass of spiders and wasps would fill in the gaps when the dogs were busy elsewhere. Unlike Bitch, she could leave her bugs behind to distract, stall, and maybe even set up traps if webbing could be made fast enough.

“Hi! I know you’re watching!” Oh shit.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Searched roofs before street, knew others were watching: knew others were watching before the fight started, knew parahumans were watching, was hoping to impress watchers, knew bug girl was watching, was hoping to impress bug girl, knew you were watching, was hoping to impress you.

Yep! Time to leave.

Lisa grabbed a bone spike and climbed onto one of the dogs. “Got what I needed. Let’s bounce.”

The rest of the Undersiders were already riding. Bitch’s dogs and Grue’s darkness were perfect for getaways, and every second counted. The team could be gone in moments. The dogs grew bigger, which not only meant more strength, but also a longer stride. They were all-terrain in every sense of the word and almost as fast as Armsmaster’s cycle. Add in the smokescreen and pursuers were in for a rough time.

Regent smirked. “Don’t want to offer crazy girl a job? She kicked Lung’s ass and laughed her own off in front of us.”

He mimed stabbing himself with the bottom of his scepter. “Imagine Shadow Stalker trying to shoot her in the gut. She’d just catch it and return to sender.”

“No.” Surprisingly it was Grue who spoke up. He turned to her. “She’s insane, isn’t she? More than usual.”

Lisa settled herself in. The dogs were actually comfortable to ride if you found the right spot, and super intuition was great for that. “She fought him on a whim. She didn’t care about saving the bug girl or us.”

“So she had a vendetta against Lung? That last trick was disturbing.” Grue’s hand unconsciously went to his stomach. Lisa sympathized. What a way to go.

She shook her head. “No. Even worse. It was a game for her. Zero self control. It wouldn’t be a week before she called the PRT to the hideout because she was bored. She didn’t even bother with a costume. I’ll message bug girl if we vote her in, but we’re staying far away from the junkie.”

Armsmaster’s motorcycle was almost here. Lisa had figured out it was loud on purpose, but not why. Grue nodded. “Good. Bitch, let's go.”

Rachel huffed and made a gesture. Her monsters and their riders bounded away. The dog Lisa was on got up and galloped after them.

Two new players, Lisa mused as she held on for dear life. One who couldn’t be controlled. One who might. Both with powers of the same potency as Lung.

Coil was going to be pissed.

----

…

No response.

It’s fine. I get it.

Lisa was probably like, ‘Grue, we should recruit her.’, and Brian was like, ‘No, she’s crazy. Yada yada reputation yada yada unpredictable yada yada.’, and Alec probably cracked a sick your momma joke, and Rachel was like ‘I need to take care of my hellhounds and teach some to roll over. I hate people and dogs are better.’, or whatever.

I’ll just drop by Redmond Welding at some point. No biggie.

Vroom vroom. Armsmaster is around the corner, and Taylor is peeking at me from the rooftop. Decisions decisions.

Let’s not talk to the socially inept glory hound. It took Mannequin paying him a personal visit to kick him off his high horse, Mr. ‘I need to look awesome so people will believe in me so I’m going to sabotage the endbringer truce’. Get a life dude.

Can I fangirl about Mannequin for a second? He's by far my favorite member of the nine. Tragic backstory. Unique power. Doesn’t talk but is the most expressive member anyway. Creepy costume theme. Detachable hands. The guy has it all. Mannequin’s invasion of Skitter’s territory was such a cool fight scene. His power isn’t remotely related to direct conflict, but he makes it work. I saw a fanart of him crawling out of the vent piece by piece and set it as my wallpaper for a few months. What a great character. I hope I get to fight him.

Path to talking to Taylor away from Armsmaster while being hella cool.

Sprint towards that building. Wait! Hold on!

Almost forgot.

I take out my phone and push off the wall, landing next to Lung. He’s been slowly shrinking back to normal while I wasn’t looking, so I’ll have to be fast. I open up the camera app and pose.

Click. Selfie. The color of fire extinguisher powder contrasts well with his scales. I file it under ‘Favorite Accomplishments’. I’ll make a separate folder for Worm memories later.

Anyway… Sprint towards that building. The required speed has increased, but is still within my ability, so I run at its instruction.

Taylor’s head disappears. Aww, don’t be shy.

I reach the building. Jump. Grab this handhold. Pull and twist. “Weeeee!” I spin like a top as I crest the roof and stick the landing in the classic three point superhero pose.

Just in time to see long and curly black hair disappear down the fire escape. Oh come on. Nobody got to see that!

Run and dive there. I take off and handspring on the edge of the roof, tuck myself in and do a flip, because I can, not because the path told me too, and fall alongside the fire escape.

I catch sight of the yellow lenses of her mask as I plummet past. Grab and pull. I snag the railing and come to an abrupt stop one level below her, then yank upwards. Curling over the railing on the level Taylor is at, I land in front of her and throw out some jazz hands. “Tada!”

“Hi! I’m-” Block. I knock a wild haymaker aside. “Whoa! Relax!”

“Get away from me!” Taylor yells and frantically backpedals. The telltale buzz of her swarm picks up. Oh boy, here we go. She raises her fists in a hasty guard and I can’t help but notice the thumb is in the wrong spot. She’ll break her thumb like that.

“Alright! Alright!” I step back and snatch a few wasps out of the air, crushing their heads and popping them in my mouth. Careful to not sting my tongue, I chew. Fresh and crunchy. This girl really needs some friends. “Jeez, so jumpy.”

She stares at me. That mask is downright sinister in the dim lighting of the Docks. The fanart doesn’t do it justice. I put trying it on and jumpscaring some high schoolers on my to-do list.

The path lets go of me and I stare back, waiting.

…

I exaggerate my swallow and she flinches. People eat bugs. It isn’t that gross, honest. “Soooooo, I’m Clara Ginge. Nice to meet you!” I wave and give her a wide smile.

She doesn’t respond and almost imperceptibly glances at the stairs I’m currently blocking.

“Oh! Sorry!”

I grab the railing and flip myself over it, still holding on. Then I let go, fall and grab the railing below. Rinse and repeat until I’m at ground level. I step back and sketch a bow. “My bad.”

Her mask follows me the entire time. It really does resemble an insect. Charming.

What do I want to do here? Exchanging contact information would be ideal. Then we could call each other and complain about high school cliques and gossip or something. Trading stories is always fun, and I have some stories.

I don’t have phone service. I’m in another dimension. Uh…

I’m an idiot.

Path to hacking this phone to acquire phone service while being hella cool.

You’ve got to be kidding. The comma’s gone. Rude.

Taylor overcomes her hesitation and starts climbing down the stairs. Her bugs settle down and the rattle of the metal stairs sounds nice and satisfying. She doesn’t let me out of her sight though. Remove phone from holster. I whip out my phone and she freezes, leg hovering over the next step.

I roll my eyes. Seriously. “It’s fine! Just hacking a few internet service providers.”

She stares some more. That mask is really good at staring. “What?”

Yes! Conversation! “You didn’t hear anything. What brings a good looking girl like you to ABB territory?” Type and swipe like this. My fingers fly across the screen without me looking.

She reaches the bottom and folds her arms. She isn’t as nervous anymore. Good. I wouldn’t want to fight a skittish Skitter. “Why do you care? Are you ABB?”

Paranoid much? I swap my phone back and forth from hand to hand as I tap. “What? Girl, I just took out Lung. Do I look Asian to you?” I make some imaginary sword swipes, the smart phone tumbling in the air between each strike. “If I was in the ABB, I’d have a katana, and call myself the Fruit Ninja. No supermarket would escape my juicy wrath.”

That’s a cool idea actually. I bet Oni Lee has some spares.

She stares at me. Did that game come out yet?

I finish whatever the path wanted me to do and click my phone back in its holster. “You got something to say, or should we have a staring contest after every sentence? Is this a Brockton Bay culture thing?”

We stare at each other. Guess so. Whatever. I can be patient.

Shut up. I can! Just not for very long.

Taylor breaks first and slumps, looking down. “How are you so confident?”

Teenage angst incoming. I dip into my pocket for a quarter and roll it across my fingers. This is why you always buy shorts with pockets. Suck it fashionistas. “What do you mean?”

‘It’s just-” She sighs and looks up at me. Then she notices my coin when I flick it to my left and roll it around there too. “I’m here because I want to be a hero. This is my first night out.”

Poor kid. How desperate must she be for someone to confide in? We just met, and I gave Lung bronchitis in front of her less than ten minutes ago. Not exactly the picture of trustworthiness.

“Mhm. Mine too.” I toss the quarter and a ping rings out when it rebounds off the fire escape. I catch it and recommence the coin tricks. Enhanced accuracy confirmed.

“You’re kidding.” I can’t see any facial expressions, but the disbelief is evident from her tone.

I hold the quarter between my pointer and index fingers to show it off. “Nope. Just got my powers.”

“Then… how?!”

I shrug. “I’ve been doing stuff like this my whole life. It’s who I am.”

She stares at me. I frown. “Girl. Stop it with the staring! Spit it out.”

Taylor winces like I caught her with a hand in the cookie jar. She motions as if to push her glasses up and winces again at her mistake. “You were a superhero with no powers?”

Oh my gosh this isn’t hard. I shove the quarter into my pocket, god bless them, and roll my eyes again. “Nah. I did, and do, risky stuff for fun.”

She starts to stare at me, catches herself, then stares at me anyway. I refrain from knocking her mask off with loose change. There’s silence for a few seconds before I get impatient. “You’re staring again.”

“You’re an adrenaline junkie.”

“Born and raised. So?”

“You fought Lung, by yourself, because you thought it would be”, she bends her fingers in air quotes, “‘fun’?”

“That wasn’t obvious? I thought the musical accompaniment would give it away.” I crack my neck and the pops are louder than usual. Damn that feels wonderful. “It’s really no different from skydiving. Better, even.”

Taylor rests her back on the fire escape and hangs her head. “I need a nap. Why did I think this was a good idea?”

…

“Well this is awkward.”

Taylor says nothing. My turn then. How can I lift her spirits? Hmm.

Here we go. I wave a hand at her. I won’t even have to lie, which is always a plus. “I like your costume. The mask in particular is very intimidating. It matches your theme too. Where did you get it? Parian?”

Taylor straightens up a bit. Still got it. “I made it myself. I didn’t mean for it to be intimidating though.” She slumps a little again. Damn it. “I was more than halfway done putting the costume together when I realized it was already looking more edgy than I’d intended, and I couldn’t do anything about it by then.”

Was that word for word from the Armsmaster conversation? That sounded word for word. “Oooooo. From what?”

“Spider silk.” Suddenly she ends her brooding and visibly looks me over. “Hey, where’s your costume? Wait, why did you tell me your real name?”

Not yet Taylor. Don’t try to deflect. I raise my hand, palm out. “Hold on. I think we’re missing an important point here.” I point at her. “You. Made your own costume. Out of actual spider silk.”

“Yes. Black widow silk. But why-” She’s clearly confused.

I spread my arms out. “Black widows?! What do you mean you have no confidence?! That’s a hell of an achievement!”

I wish I had x-ray vision too, so I could see her face right now. Her posture is hesitant, but that’s all I have to work with. “...I never said I have no confidence.” Emma really screwed you over huh?

I put the pieces together. I’ve seen people like this before. This girl needs a pep talk, and I’ve got just the thing. “You implied it. Look. Bug girl. Do you have a better name than bug girl?”

“...no?”

“Whatever. Bug girl.” I rub my hands together. “Let me tell you a secret.”

Time to show off. I pirouette so my back is to her, man that is so much easier now, and moonwalk over to her. Michael Jackson ain’t got nothing on me.

Taylor stiffens when I drape my arm around her shoulder. I ignore that and look her in the eyes. Err, lenses. I’m serious for once. “Confidence doesn’t come from some innate trait. It isn’t genetic. It isn’t given to you by someone else. Confidence is made here.” I knock my head. “It’s an unconscious trust in yourself. You can’t force it, but you can do things on purpose to prove yourself to yourself. If that makes sense. I made my first bits of confidence when I broke into my elementary school teacher’s lounge and stole all the Crunch bars from the vending machine.”

“You what?”

I smile dreamily. “They were so good.”

“What the fuck?”

I flap my hand. I’m really expressive today. “The point is, you won’t get anywhere if you don’t do anything. Real confidence is made by action, not by telling yourself in the mirror you look pretty.”

She’s still uncomfortable, so I take my chance and snap another selfie before she can react, then let go and give her the finger guns. “So go do something. Anything. Anything but sit around in mediocracy. Don’t be content with being pathetic.”

She flinches. Whoops. I’m reminding her of Emma. “Don’t be fine with where you are. Life’s too short to do anything but your best. Superheroing is a good start, but there is so much more out there than that. Things worth experiencing and learning that have nothing to do with your powers. Like this!”

I fish a couple quarters out of my shorts and do a coin jump trick. It’s been awhile, and I’m rusty, but the extra dexterity more than makes up the difference. She watches silently as from her perspective the coin teleports from hand to hand. Who needs powers when you have stage magic? I increase my pace and narrow my eyes. “And if someone dares to come up to you and degrade you. To tell you that your dreams are unrealistic. Insane. Stupid. Illegal?”

I produce the second coin from thin air in front of her mask. Pinched between my thumb and pointer, heads facing her. “Smile politely and excuse yourself. Take their advice. Write it down. Then burn it and spread the ashes.”

I step back and flip it to her. Taylor catches the quarter reflexively. “Think about it.” Dropping the other coin back into my pocket, I hook my thumb over my shoulder and hop backwards. “I gotta go. Things to do. Places to be.” I give her a sloppy two-fingered salute. “See you around bug girl. Come up with a better name, yeah?”

Walking away, I pull up my playlist and find a song. Then I cancel it. Sorry Dwayne Johnson. Not in the mood, and that movie shouldn’t have come out yet.

Would the path let me produce a movie? Eh, it’s probably not worth the effort.

I breathe in the city air. It’s crisp and refreshing, despite being in one of Brockton Bay’s worst areas. The ocean must keep the streets circulated.

Today was a great day. I missed out on meeting the Undersiders, but duking it out with Lung was spectacular. Taylor’s got a lot to think about now. There’s some hope for her, and if anyone can bring her out of her shell, it’s me. Emma can go die in a hole.

They have school tomorrow don’t they? Tattletale messages her in the computer lab I think. Uh…

Wait, no, it was in Mrs. Knott’s computer class, so she would be in a classroom. It all starts coming back to me now. The trio don’t have computer class with her, but at least one is in the rest of Taylor’s classes. I chuckle softly, my mood lifting. Not if I can help it. I don’t need some ‘popular’ girls ruining all my hard work.

I’m already a few streets down when I realize I didn’t give Taylor my phone number. Damn it. I knew I forgot something. “Grumble grumble grumble.” Then I facepalm.

Oh yeah, she doesn’t have a phone. The mom blues are real. Well... I feel my cheeks bunch up as a mischievous grin grows. I might not be a registered therapist, but that’s never stopped me before.

Path to acquiring a phone for Taylor without getting caught while being hella cool.

Turn right and run until there. I frown. No. I’m walking. I love you, but I’m the boss. You’re just an advisor. Try again.

Turn right and walk until there. Thank you.