I felt like I was on a lucky streak. I barely noticed the hours slipping by as crime after crime got dealt with to the point that precincts were telling me that I’d have to go someplace else because I’d filled most of their cells. It felt weirdly good, pretty energizing, making sure kids didn’t get smacked into by runaway trucks with overheated brakes, that cats could get out of trees and I even walked home a kid that looked like he’d just had the worst day of his life. Wads of toilet paper on his shirt. Hair damp and wet. Broken glasses. A kid that’s been bullied so badly that he was clutching his backpack so tightly his fingernails were digging into his palms, slowly starting to draw blood.

  I had spotted him by accident, walking alone, head low, muttering to himself as tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn’t want to play ball at first. I’d walk beside him, asking questions that never got any answers until he’d snap and tell me to leave him alone before he walked a little faster. I let him be and came back a few minutes later with a packet of gummy sweets, because I didn’t really know what else to do with an angry teenager that hated the world and everything in it. He grudgingly took a sour worm as we stood at a crosswalk, not saying anything until he asked me for one more, which turned into three, then four, and before I knew it, the kid was telling me all about how Chad, some guy on his school’s soccer team, had dunked him in the bathroom and ripped up his homework. He also wanted me to go teach him a lesson. Maybe, in his words, we could go to his house and spook him so badly that he’d shit himself. I patted his shoulder and told him to breathe a little, because yeah, no way.

  That bummed him out enough to drag him back into silent and brooding mode all the way back to his place. His mom was waiting outside the apartment, cardigan tightly wrapped around herself, lips pursed as she craned her neck, looking over the crowd. I noticed the concealed gun in the waistband of her pajamas, but I guess if you live in Lower Olympus, you can’t take any chances. She thanked me so much for keeping her son safe, even though I didn’t really do much, that she wanted me to come inside and have dinner with them. She made pot roast, the best in the state, but I had to decline. Don’t need to eat with my powers, and they looked like the kind of family that needed all the food and resources they could get. Sam—the kid—quietly thanked me, his licks of black hair falling over his eyes, like some ploy to make sure he didn’t really have to look at me when he was talking to me.

  I had a burner phone on me though (the pouches were getting their use), and I gave him a number.

  “Call it whenever you need help,” I said, to both him and his mom. “I’ll try to be there, but no promises.”

  Yeah, I’m starting a business—I called it the Olympia Hotline. Free, of course, but you get the idea. It felt like a more direct way of keeping my ear to the ground. And sure, I won’t get to everyone—that’s a given. But I’d like to think, now that Rylee wouldn’t be a factor, that I’d have the time to actually get to problems when I could.

  After that, though, my day kinda just flatlined. Absolutely nothing to get my hands on.

  Damage Control would handle a shootout in Upper Olympus, and crime plummeted so much today for some reason that I couldn’t even find a thug I could goad into doing something illegal like steal a car or try to mug someone, so that meant I didn’t have much to do except help an old lady pick up her fallen groceries and talk to a guy smoking some weed on the roof of his house. Swell guy. Offered me a hit. I declined, he shrugged, and told me about this one time when his girlfriend dressed up like me on their honeymoon. Married now with a kid on the way.

  Didn’t know how to feel about that but…sure, I guess. “Cool,” I told him. “Don’t fall off the roof, though.”

  He showed me his hand. “Got your number now. I’ll call before I hit the ground.”

  I laughed a little and stood. “I’m fast, but not that fast.”

  “Honey!” a woman called. “The dog’s in the trash again!”

  “Gotta go,” he said. “The missus needs me. Hey, kid, I know this might be a weird question to ask ‘cause of your whole secret identity thing, but, well, Mary and I haven’t chosen a name yet, and we were just wondering—”

  “Sorry,” I said, hovering and shrugging. “But if you want a name, Bianca’s a pretty good one.”

  He thought for a moment, nodding. “Yeah, Bianca Burnes. Rolls of the tongue. If this superhero thing doesn’t work out for you, you can, like, start a naming business. I mean, Olympia’s already a pretty good one, too.”

  I laughed. “I’ll think about it. And hey, you should probably get down there before—”

  “He’s in the casserole!” she shouted.

  “Keep up the good work!” he said, climbing back inside the house. “I’m coming, hun! Get the leash!”

  And just like that, I had nothing left to do. It was too breezy to spend my time floating through the sky amongst the clouds, head resting on my arms, and for once, the streets below were timid with life. Too much snow and too much of a chill for most people to bother leaving their homes. Criminals were in bars and kids were almost asleep by the time I found a water tower I could park myself on. I sat there for a while, illuminated by the glowing neon yellow sign on the side of the building. The city wasn’t silent, far from it. But it was a lot more mellow. Quiet. Like someone had massaged the worst bits of tension from the streets deeper into the asphalt so nobody could really see it, feel it, or even hear it. I shut my eyes and breathed, just breathed. I had a lot going through my mind.

  But none of it really mattered, because those were Rylee’s problems, and I wasn’t her right now.

  I sighed and lay down on the tank, hands on my stomach and staring at the snow slowly drifting through the sky. I was kind of just waiting for something to happen, since the universe rarely ever lets me have a moment to myself before something eventually happens. But five minutes passed, then ten, and I guess maybe I was wrong for once. Maybe today had been my good deed. My ticket for an hour of peace. I couldn’t fall asleep up here, not with the wind and the dryness in the air, but I also didn’t want to let my mind wander and swallow me whole. That wasn’t going to cut it anymore. I’d wasted enough time, enough days, made terrible decisions, just because I got too deep into my own thoughts. From now on, I'm gonna keep it simple. Really, really simple. If you’ve got a problem with me, then come on, let’s sort it out—don’t go behind my back and lead me on a wild goose chase. Fight me right now. No backing out. No nonsense. I should probably find Ceaser. Don’t even know where that guy could be.

  I shrugged and shut my eyes, letting the snow land softly on my cheeks. “Whatever,” I muttered.

  He wanted to kill me so badly, and yet, he’s not done a single thing since I disappeared.

  Smoke and mirrors, lies and truths, capes and villains—just a mess.

  Then my stomach groaned, and I think that meant I needed some dinner for the night shift. I got up and found a convenience store a few blocks from where I was. The old lady I’d helped had given me five bucks for my troubles, and that meant I could at least get a hotdog and maybe some cola and a packet of candy to keep me going. Don’t look at me like that. My dad’s not around and mom would probably force me to get a salad on the side, but last I checked, she wasn’t doing that either. Luckily for me, the store was largely empty. A sleep cashier on his phone, an old lady trying to pick which onion she liked most, and a redhead leaning on the counter, chewing some gum, and staring into the machine that kept the hotdogs spinning. I stood beside her, looked around, then frowned.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “What’s up with all this waiting?” I asked.

  She shrugged. Freckles on her cheeks. Large glasses. A red coat that’s been zipped down because the store was warm, letting silver dog tags hang loose from her neck. “The dude says they’re not ready, but they look ready.”

  “Put them five minutes ago,” he said from the register, still scrolling. “Give ‘em five more.”

  I leaned my back against the counter and folded my arms. The redhead offered me a packet of gum. I took one and popped it into my mouth, watching people come inside the store, glance at me, pause, do a double take and then slowly remember they’re here to do shopping. I yawned behind my hand and glanced at the chick again. She’s kinda cute. Lo and behold, I caught her glancing at me, too. We went back to pretending we hadn’t seen each other do that, not clearing throats or shuffling around. Just a thing that happened. She smelt of woodsmoke and salter water. Tall, and judging by her calves, probably had some muscle on her, too. Slow heartbeat. Easy breathing. I chewed my gum and pretended like I wasn’t getting a little sweaty in this new costume standing beside her.

  “Any chance that you’re actually her?” she asked me. “Or is that just a great cosplay?”

  I shrugged. “Could be both. Who knows anymore?”

  She rested her arm on the hotdog machine and looked me up and down. A little taller than I was. Another shirt underneath her jacket, also open to reveal the white t-shirt that clung to her stomach. “Prove it, then.”

  I hovered an inch off the floor, getting to her height. “Enough evidence?”

  “Anyone can fly and put in some golden contacts,” she said, waving her hand.

  I thought for a moment, then looked over my shoulder. “Hey, what percent is your phone on?”

  “Pretty full,” he muttered. “Give the dogs another five minutes.”

  “Lazy fuck,” she said quietly.

  I turned, then put my hand on the hotdog machine. “You’re gonna want to take your arm off.”

  She did, then I sent a pulse of electricity through the machine. It fritzed, sparked, then stopped working. The inside went dark and the hotdogs smelt burnt. I looked at her and she looked at me, then she laughed with a hand over her mouth, trying to stop herself from being too loud. I sent another pulse of electricity through it, and the thing turned back on again, albeit with a lot more stop-and-go jerking from the burnt hotdogs inside of it. She kept laughing and I shrugged, trying not to smile as I watched her pinch the bridge of her nose and calm down.

  “I’d ask for more proof,” she said, “but I think I’m sold.”

  “I should get out of here before I’m told to pay for this thing.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were mega rich?”

  “Me?” I asked. “I haven’t made a dime in months.”

  The redhead pulled out her jean pockets, letting them hang loose. “Looks like we’ve got something in common, superhero.” She nudged my arm and said, “I was gonna steal one, but I think I’ll just go fishing tonight.”

  “Fishing?” I asked her.

  She nodded, putting her hands in her jacket pockets. “Yep. Live down on the beach. Most of the water is too cold now for a few of the fish, but you get lucky sometimes and catch some of the smaller ones. Once got a Kaiju that washed up to shore.” I made a face. She laughed and grinned. “Glaze that with honey and it’s perfect.”

  “Yeah…” I said. “I don’t really eat Kaiju. Always felt like it was kinda like cannibalism.”

  “Those things aren’t human,” the guy on his phone said. “Just animals. You eat animals.”

  “They talk, walk, have jobs and have kids,” I said. “Pretty sure they’re different from normal animals.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Fur, teeth, claws—sounds like a mutt to me.”

  I stared at him, my saliva going bitter. “They’re people.”

  He scoffed, thumb still hovering above his phone and eyes still reading something. “They ate a lot of people too when they fucked up 12th Avenue. I swear, they should’ve never been let out of Lower Olympus.”

  “That’s like saying Supes don’t deserve to fly around and live peacefully, dumbass,” I said.

  He looked up from his phone. “Who the—” He paused, looked at me, rubbed his eyes then scanned his surroundings, like he couldn’t really believe it. He straightened his shoulders, then said, “Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

  “No, come on,” said the redhead, folding her arms. “You were gonna run your mouth, right?”

  “I didn’t know I was talking to her,” he said, fixing his untucked shirt. “Hotdogs, coming right up.”

  When they were done, Red gave him the finger, and I gave him the money for both the hotdogs and a side of nachos, on the house (shakily handed to Red). We headed outside and stood on the sidewalk, and she was the first one to laugh about the face he’d made and how pale he’d gotten as soon as he’d seen me. I smiled, but…I don’t know, something felt off about that. Like he was dead terrified of me, rather than just doing it out of respect or whatever. He’d nearly burnt himself trying to grab the hotdogs with his fingers instead of the tongs, because that’s just how nervous he’d been. Is that why people are nice to me? Because they’re scared? Normal people weren’t meant to be scared of me. Criminals and supervillains were my target, but the guy in the store looked so normal.

  Red nudged my arm, making me look at her. “Let’s get out of the cold and eat somewhere warm.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. The cashier was shaking himself to bits holding onto the counter, breathing into a brown paper bag until it popped in his face and spooked the old lady still in the store. I turned back around and said, “I think I should get going. It’s been fun talking, though. I’ve got a hotline now, so you can call if you—”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Giving me your number right off the bat without asking for my name first?”

  I felt my cheeks get hotter as she stared at me, her lips parted with a smile. “It’s a superhero thing, like, you know, you call those hotlines back in the day and you’d get a B-Team on the line then they’d save you and—”

  “I’m kidding,” she said. “Sure, I’ll take your number. Don’t really have any problems, but I’ll call.”

  I nodded, throat dry, then got the phone out and gave it to her to put in her number. Wait. That’s not how this is supposed to go. I’m meant to give them my number. I’m not meant to save them on a burner phone.

  She handed it back. It was warm, almost hot. “Friends call me Cinder. Usually it’s just Cindy.”

  I slid the phone back into a pouch. “Cool. Olympia. Sometimes just O, but those are the villains.”

  Cindy smiled and nodded. “Awesome. Guess I’ll see you around, O.”

  We stood in silence, looking at each other. Then the phone rang.

  And that meant I had to go.

  “Catch you later,” I said, stepping back and hovering.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Come over some time when you’re free.”

  I smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Can’t wait,” Cindy said. “See you around, Supes.”