by Lisa Yee
To my best friend Henry, who is super smart
Copyright © 2017 DC Comics.
DC SUPER HERO GIRLS and all related characters and elements © & TM DC Comics and Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.
WB SHIELD: TM & © WBEI. (s17)
RHUS37027
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, 1745 Broadway, New York, NY 10019, and in Canada by Penguin Random House Canada Limited, Toronto. Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
randomhousekids.com
dcsuperherogirls.com
ISBN 9781101940655 (hc) — ISBN 9781101940662 (lib. bdg.)
Ebook ISBN 9781101940679
v4.1
ep
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Copyright
Prologue
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Part Two
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Part Three
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
About the Author
Oh, sure, there were injuries. Lumps and bruises were an occupational hazard. Sometimes it was because a muscle-bound metahuman was momentarily careless when working out in Wildcat’s phys ed class. Or because a flyer took a turn a tad too sharply and slammed into a wall (or a fellow student or the cafeteria) at full speed. Or because of something like what had just happened: an invading interstellar alien army had targeted the student population for total enslavement to the powers of evil…which was all part of the daily routine at Super Hero High School. And most of the super heroes in training loved it.
Now, as the young heroes flew, ran, stretched, strolled, and teleported into the auditorium, they laughed and congratulated each other. They admired their new casts and bandages and bruises. Never had so many been so sore—and so happy about it.
“Not everyone likes a bump on the noggin, but everyone likes the attention,” the class clown Harley Quinn said merrily as she uploaded an exclusive video to Harley’s Quinntessentials, her “All Harley, All the Time” video channel. The footage showed fashionista Star Sapphire sneaking on a couture neck brace she didn’t need.
A loud cough reverberated from the stage.
All heads snapped to the front and faced the imposing figure.
“Super Heroes, you have much to be proud of!” boomed Principal Amanda “The Wall” Waller. Her elite students had battled malevolent Granny Goodness and her army of Furies, thwarting the villains’ plan to take over the world. Best of all, no lives had been lost. And at Super Hero High, the goal was to save the world and cause as little damage as possible while doing so.
In back of the auditorium, Parasite, the janitor, swept with his left arm. The cast on his right arm matched his blue-gray uniform and complemented his purple face. He nodded cheerfully before remembering to be grumpy. Cleaning up the messes super hero teens made was not his idea of fun. (And there were always messes.)
Waller suppressed a smile. She was not one of those “let’s be friends!” feel-good principals. Still, she said, “Students, teachers, staff, give yourselves a well-deserved round of applause!”
After allowing the cheering to go on for several rowdy minutes, The Wall arched an eyebrow and the room went silent. Everyone leaned forward and soaked up the praise she heaped on them. Amanda Waller was known more for her sharp constructive criticism than for her compliments, so the Supers savored this moment, smiling at one another.
“And now,” Principal Waller continued, “it’s time to announce our Super Hero of the Month.”
No one dared move, and Miss Martian couldn’t because Killer Frost had just frozen her, “as a joke.” The only sound in the cavernous auditorium was a tiny ping coming from Cyborg’s internal circuitry.
“Supergirl!” Waller called out.
The auditorium erupted in cheers for its newest student. She had proven herself under the most serious of circumstances and had put her own life at risk to save others.
As Supergirl sat stunned, Bumblebee flew over and nudged her friend toward the stage. “M-m-me?” Supergirl stammered, still in shock. She pushed her blond bangs out of her eyes. “Me?”
“Yes, you!” Bumblebee said gleefully. Katana bowed to Supergirl, and Beast Boy cheered. Supergirl tried not to trip—she did that a lot—as she made her way up the aisle.
Asked to say a few words, Supergirl choked back her tears. How is it possible to be both happy and sad at the same time? the young alien wondered. Supergirl wished her parents were there to see her, but that was impossible. She hoped Harley was videoing so she could share this moment with Aunt Martha and Uncle Jonathan. As she stood on the stage thanking everyone for their teamwork, some noticed that Supergirl also kept looking up and would pause to speak into a slim bracelet that graced her wrist.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Supergirl whispered into it. “You helped me become who I am. You helped save the world from Granny Goodness and her army. You deserve to be up here, too.”
In the rafters, looking down at the assembly, a girl dressed in black replied wistfully, “In my dreams, Supergirl. In my dreams.”
Supergirl covered the microphone and spoke to the principal. Both looked serious. Liberty Belle, Doc Magnus, and Police Commissioner Gordon, all teachers who were sitting on the stage, glanced at one another. The Supers shifted in their seats. Finally, Waller nodded and stepped away as Supergirl spoke into the microphone….
“There is someone in this room who was invaluable in fighting the epic battle. Without this person, multiple lives would have been lost,” she began. “I would like to publicly acknowledge their epic contribution.”
Many of the Supers, like Katana, Frost, and Adam Strange, sat tall, each convinced she was talking about them. Hal Jordan, the first earthling to be made a member of the intergalactic peacekeeping force known as the Green Lantern Corps, was especially sure it must be him. He wasn’t bigheaded about it, but he was proud to be called a Green Lantern.
“Batgirl,” Supergirl called. “Please join us!”
Nothing happened.
Supergirl stood alone.
A low murmur swept the auditorium. Had the battle caused her to lose it? Supers all reacted to combat differently. Some were energized, others needed time alone, and a few never wanted to fight again.
Supergirl didn’t move.
Instead, she kept looking up. Soon everyone else did, too, unsure of what or who they were looking for.
Finally, a mysterious figure swung gracefully from the rafters on a thin wire and landed silently on the stage. For a moment, no one said a word. Then everyone began talking at once, trying to figure out who the costumed figure was. She wasn’t one of them. Who was behind the black mask? Batgirl? No one had ever heard of h
er.
It was Katana who spoke loudest. “Great costume!” she shouted. (She had, after all, helped design the elegantly functional black suit.) Then Katana whispered to Wonder Woman, who told Hawkgirl, who told Bumblebee Batgirl’s true identity. Soon the entire student body was buzzing with the news.
“Everyone,” Supergirl said, turning to the audience, “I want you to meet Batgirl! If it weren’t for her, the battle against the Furies would have had a very different outcome. I couldn’t have done all that I did without her help. She is one of us. She has the heart of a super hero!”
After the cheers died down and the shouts of “Yay for Batgirl!” and “Hooray for Supergirl!” trailed off, Waller gave her a nod and said, “Thank you, Batgirl. Super Hero High is in your debt.” And with that, she added, “All right, people. We all played a part in saving the world, but now we have more work to do. Parasite can’t get this place back into shape by himself.”
The teachers and the Supers shuffled out of the auditorium. After all the excitement, no one was in a hurry to get back to class. But Waller was right. Parts of the school had been destroyed during the battle. There was work to be done. That didn’t stop the students from whispering and theorizing about the mysterious new hero…who happened to be a familiar face around campus.
One teacher remained rooted to his chair, looking like he had seen a ghost. When he started coughing, Supergirl ran over to him and patted him on the back. But she had forgotten how strong she was and knocked him to the ground.
“So sorry, Commissioner Gordon,” Supergirl said, looking down at her red high-top sneakers in embarrassment.
He got up wordlessly, but instead of looking at Supergirl, he stared at the girl dressed in black.
“Batgirl?” he asked. His jaw locked and his face was stern.
“Oh, hello, Commissioner Gordon, sir,” Batgirl said nervously, lowering her voice in an effort to disguise it. “Um, nice to…er, nice to meet you, sir. Commissioner. Mister. Mr. Gordon. Sir. Mr. Commissioner Gordon, sir.”
When she reached out to shake his hand, he did not take it. Instead, he said, “Barbara, we need to talk. You think I don’t recognize my own daughter?”
Batgirl didn’t answer. In a rare moment of uncertainty, she wasn’t completely sure who she was.
“Barbara!” Commissioner Gordon barked. Even his mustache looked serious. “When I agreed to let you get a part-time job as the tech wizard for Super Hero High, that did not include you going into battle, or wearing a ridiculous costume, or pretending to be a super hero! Now get back into your own clothes and let’s get you to Gotham City High School, where you belong.”
“It’s not a ridiculous costume!” Katana shouted from the back of the room. “It’s sleek, stylish, and awesome.”
“Come on, Katana,” Poison Ivy said, ushering her friend out the door. “Let’s see what shape the greenhouse is in after the Furies’ attack.”
“Batgirl’s outfit is not ridiculous,” Katana muttered, gripping her sword. She was known as much for her artistically stylish creations as for wielding a sword with the strength, substance, and determination of twenty samurai warriors.
“Your daughter?” Doc Magnus, the new Robotics and Computer Science teacher, asked Commissioner Gordon on his way out. “You should be very proud of her achievement.”
Commissioner Gordon gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “Yes, Barbara is an amazing tech expert.”
“Well, yes, that. But for helping save lives,” Doc Magnus added appreciatively. “Good job, Batgirl!”
“Her name is Barbara,” Police Commissioner Gordon grumbled. Doc Magnus got the hint and walked away.
Barbara recognized her father’s tone as the one he used when he had to listen to Mr. Morris complain about the “young whippersnappers” making too much noise outside his shoe repair store.
Her dad waited until almost everyone was gone. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked.
Barbara stood still, her posture ramrod straight, her demeanor unfazed. She swept her auburn hair over her shoulders and adopted a confident expression. Inside, though, her stomach was turning the kind of somersaults that even Harley Quinn would have been proud of.
“She’s amazing,” Supergirl chimed in. Barbara had almost forgotten that her best friend was still there. “She saved my life! Batgirl—er, Barbara is incredibly brave and smart, and wow, can she stay cool under pressure!”
Principal Waller stepped out from behind the heavy red velvet stage curtain. “Commissioner Gordon, Barbara knows more about high tech than anyone I have ever met, but she has a whole lot more to offer,” The Wall began. “She has brains, bravery, and ingenuity. She is super hero material. Your daughter—”
Barbara cut in. “Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt you,” she said. “But may I have a moment alone with Commissioner Gordon?”
Waller turned to the Hero of the Month. “Supergirl,” she said, “this does not concern us. This is between father and daughter.”
Supergirl nodded. She wished she had a father she could talk to, even if he wanted to lecture her. When Supergirl touched her crystal necklace, it glowed with a soft white light.
Before leaving, Principal Waller said, “Police Commissioner Gordon, you know that Super Hero High is one of the few schools that recruit students based not on who they are today, but on who they could become tomorrow.” He didn’t blink. “I think…Wait. I know that Barbara has what it takes to be an incredible super hero, with the proper training. I would like to extend an open invitation to her to attend Super Hero High—with parental permission, of course.”
Barbara’s heart began to race. All her life she had wanted nothing more than to fight crime like her father. Her dream was to join the police force someday. It had never occurred to her that she could actually make a bigger difference as a super hero. And when she got the job handling the tech for Super Hero High, Barbara Gordon stood in the back of classrooms as she fixed computers and phones, recharged weapons, and rebooted Cyborg, her friend who was half man, half machine, all good-hearted. And all that time Barbara was also soaking in Super Hero History with Liberty Belle, admiring the costumes from Crazy Quilt’s assignments, and marveling at Lucius Fox’s Weaponomics class. To be a part of all this as a participant—an actual student—suddenly made Batgirl feel like her heart would burst with happiness. Not only would she be going to school with her best friend, Supergirl, but now she could honestly and truly test her skills. After all, the students at Super Hero High were the best of the best, and Barbara Gordon finally had a chance to prove that she was, too.
“No, just no,” he was saying.
“What? But, Dad—”
“Barbara,” her father said. His square shoulders slumped. “You are my only daughter. As your father, I am here to protect you, not throw you in harm’s way. Besides, you’re good at math. Maybe you could become an accountant, or work in a bank, or do something else. Something safe…”
Barbara blinked back her frustration. She could feel her jaw tighten. Hadn’t Waller just told him how perfect she would be as a student at Super Hero High? Here was a new dream being handed to her, and her father was tossing it all away.
“Dad,” she began slowly. He had always taught her that when criminals lose their tempers, they lose their advantage. Not that either of them was a criminal—quite the contrary. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t attend Super Hero High.”
She waited, confident that she could refute whatever argument he had. As captain of the Gotham High debate team, Barbara Gordon was a great teammate and a feared but respected adversary.
“Because,” her father replied, “I love you and don’t ever want to see you get hurt.” She began to speak but stopped herself when her father’s eyes misted over and he added, “Because I couldn’t live without you.”
For once, Barbara Gordon didn’t know what to say.
Barbara had always been a great debater. Even as a toddler, she used wits and logic t
o get what she wanted. That last snickerdoodle? “It’ll go stale if no one eats it.” More school supplies? “The better to study with.” A new computer? “By my calculations, the ability to shop online will save us money in the long run.”
But how did one argue with someone else’s feelings? That stumped her.
After school, Barbara and her father drove home from Super Hero High in silence. Barbara put her earbuds in, not even bothering to turn on any music. Instead, she stared out the window and watched the city speed past her as she got farther and farther away from Super Hero High.
As the days passed, Barbara could think of nothing but Principal Waller’s invitation to join the student body. When she sat in her French class at Gotham High, her mind was in Doc Magnus’s lab, wondering what scientific breakthrough he was teaching. When she was at Super Hero High, adding decibels to Cyborg’s sonic blaster or doing her weekly security sweep of the computers, Barbara watched the students laughing and chatting, flying around and playfully zapping one another with their super powers and weapons…until hall monitor Hawkgirl shut their antics down.
Barbara noted that the Supers seemed at home with their special skills. Frost chilled a warm soda with a cold puff of air. Beast Boy amused Miss Martian by turning into a frog, then a bat, then back into a boy, in a matter of seconds. Katana sliced through a boring conversation by throwing a sheet of paper into the air and cutting it artfully into a dozen tiny paper doves, which cascaded over Poison Ivy and the other students at their table.