by Lisa Yee
“You are so strong,” Batgirl noted as she watched Wonder Woman help knock down an old concrete wall some construction workers were demolishing.
“Thank you!” Wonder Woman said as she dusted off her hands.
“Yes, well, a lot of you are super-strong,” Batgirl noted. “But I can barely lift the tires Wildcat had me throw.”
“It is hard,” Bumblebee agreed as she joined them. They were gathered under the shade of a flowering tree. Poison Ivy flung open a blanket and placed it on the ground. In the time it had taken Bumblebee to hand Batgirl a warm cup of honey-lemon tea, lightning-fast Supergirl had gone to fetch the picnic basket filled with fresh fruits and veggies, and butter cookies from her aunt Martha.
“All of us have different skills,” Bumblebee continued. “I may not be able to lift a house, but I can stop a train with my Electrical Stings.”
“And I can call on the plants to aid me,” Poison Ivy volunteered.
“That’s right,” Wonder Woman said. “And you have us to back you up if you need muscles.”
To prove her point, she leapt up and flexed her biceps, and the others joined in. Batgirl laughed at their bodybuilder poses, and soon everyone was cracking up.
“Well, if anyone needs any tech or weapons or gadgets, I’m your girl!” Batgirl said, warming to the idea that they each had their talents.
“Actually, I do,” said Star Sapphire. Batgirl was surprised. She hadn’t realized she was listening. “This could use a microcomputer. Think you could have that done for me in two days?”
Batgirl looked at the diamond-encrusted watch. “Well, I’m pretty busy, but…” Sapphire looked at her and played with the ring on her finger. Suddenly Batgirl felt a wave of camaraderie wash over her. “Sure, sure. Yes, I’ll get right on it!” she heard herself say.
By the time Crazy Quilt’s class rolled around, Batgirl was feeling the full effect of Wildcat’s PE exercises. Every muscle she had, even some she didn’t know she had, was sore.
“Hello! Hello! Hello!” Crazy Quilt cried. He raised his arms high above his head and struck a dramatic pose. Batgirl admired his retro fashion sense. She knew of no one else who would have put together an ensemble of dark flared cords with a white belt, a multicolored polyester vest, a puffy purple pirate shirt and an ascot, and pointy shoes.
“Today is your day,” Crazy Quilt continued. “I’m turning the class over to one of my students! Katana? Katana, where are you?”
She stood up in the back of the room.
“Up here! Up, up, up! Join Crazy Quilt and tell the class what your plans are for today’s lesson!”
Katana was dressed in black and gray with a slash of red and lace-up cream-colored boots. Batgirl admired how she managed to look regal yet chic and sporty at the same time.
“As you know, I helped create Batgirl’s costume,” Katana told the class. Batgirl felt all eyes on her. “And while it is functional, I feel that it’s not complete. Today, I’d like us all to contribute ideas as to how we can make it better, like adding some deep purple for depth of color and finessing the hoodie. Of course, Batgirl and I will have the final say. Batgirl”—Katana beckoned—“please join me up front.”
Crazy Quilt clapped, causing a pedestal to rise in the center of the room. As an introvert, Batgirl was not comfortable with a lot of attention. But that was exactly what she was getting as her fellow Supers walked around her, taking notes and talking. Crazy Quilt encouraged them, saying things like “Form and function!” and “Fun and fighting!”
“Wings!” Beast Boy suggested.
“She can’t fly,” Sapphire pointed out.
“But I can,” Batgirl said, whipping out her grappling hook, throwing it over an air-conditioning pipe overhead, and swinging across the room. “Plus, I’m working on a jetpack and wings.”
“Show-off,” she heard Cheetah growl quietly.
“See?” Katana said. “Her costume must be able to easily accommodate all her weapons and whatnots.”
Katana was so busy getting input from the class that there was one person whose opinion was left out. “Would anyone else like to add anything?” she finally said.
“Ahem.”
Everyone looked up to the girl standing on the pedestal. “I have something to add.”
Katana blushed. “Of course!” she said. “Yes, Batgirl.”
“Well, I love what I’ve heard everyone say, but I do have one request.”
Crazy Quilt nodded. “Yes, yes, go ahead. This is your costume, and it should reflect who you are. Most importantly, you need to feel comfortable in it. Everyone, shush. Let’s listen to what Batgirl has to say!”
Batgirl felt her cheeks flush. “Well, I love that several of you suggested sleek titanium boots.” Arrowette and Green Lantern nodded knowingly. “But I’d like to keep my plain old leather boots. They’re what I’m comfortable in and, well, this…”
There was a gasp in the room as Batgirl leapt down from the pedestal, and before she landed, her boots lifted her up again using a hidden spring coil. Then, midair, she flipped over, thanks to Harley Quinn’s training, and let her heels attach her to the ceiling so she was hanging upside down. Batgirl was relieved that the suction vacuum grippers she had bought on sale were working.
“Got it!” Harley yelled. She turned the camera on herself. “A Harley Quinntessential exclusive once again.”
Still upside down, Batgirl waved to the class as Crazy Quilt led the applause. Just then, Bumblebee flew into the room holding a pink slip of paper. Everyone held their breath. A pink slip meant someone was being called to Principal Waller’s office.
“Oh!” Bumblebee said. “Sorry, I thought Batgirl was in this class.”
Batgirl felt her boots loosening from the ceiling. With an unceremonious fall, she hit the ground, hurting both her head and her pride.
“Here I am,” Batgirl said weakly.
“Batgirl,” Bumblebee said, helping her up. “You’re wanted in Principal Waller’s office. And hurry.”
As Bumblebee flew to the principal’s office, Batgirl jogged alongside her, still aching from PE class and now nursing a big bump on her head.
“Am I in trouble?” Batgirl asked as they approached the admin office.
“Can’t say,” Bumblebee said, slowing down and winking at her.
Batgirl could hear two voices coming out of Principal Waller’s office. She knocked on the door before pushing it open.
“Ah! Here she is now!” Principal Waller exclaimed.
A woman wearing a tall, exquisite green hat topped with a plume of purple feathers turned around. Batgirl could smell her flowery perfume.
“Hello, dear,” the woman said, extending her manicured hand. Her nail polish matched her hat. She spoke quickly, as if her words might run out before she could say them all. “You probably already know me. I’m Alicia Chen of Alicia Chen TV Productions, Inc.”
Batgirl smiled politely. The name sounded familiar.
Alicia continued. “My company produces the top reality shows in the country, and we are currently in production for the pilot of a new one.” She smiled, clearly pleased with what she was about to say next. “It’s called…TechTalkTV!”
Alicia Chen paused, waiting for a reaction. When she didn’t get one, she said again, “TechTalkTV, an Alicia Chen TV production!”
“Oh,” Batgirl said, wondering why she was being told this. “That sounds exciting.”
“YES! Yes, it is,” Alicia enthused. “And the excitement continues right here at Super Hero High. Do you know why?”
Batgirl shook her head.
“Because,” Alicia announced, “YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO BE ON THE SHOW!”
When Batgirl didn’t respond, Alicia patted her on the head. “I know, I know, dear. You’re in shock. ‘Me?’ you’re asking yourself. ‘Why me on this prestigious TV pilot?’ Well, here’s why: we scoured the country for the top minds in high-tech, and the chatter was that there’s a new top tech super hero at Super Hero Hi
gh. When we contacted your Robotics teacher, Doc Magnus, he raved about you! R-A-V-E-D!
“TechTalkTV is a new high-tech competition—a live show designed to identify the most technically savvy people around. If the pilot scores, this show will be an annual event, like the Super Bowl, only bigger!”
Batgirl nodded. She was never one to blurt out what she thought, unlike Harley or some of the others. As Alicia Chen batted her thick eyelashes, Batgirl said, “Thank you. I’m really flattered. But I’m not sure I’m the right person for the competition.”
“But you fit the demographic perfectly!” the producer insisted. “Plus, you can back it up with your tech skills! And you have not just brains, but beauty, too! Look at you! Your big green eyes. That long auburn hair. That perky nose.”
“Thank you,” Batgirl said, blushing. “But right now my focus is on my studies. I don’t want my training to get sidetracked.”
Batgirl looked at Waller for help. “This is your call,” the principal said to Batgirl. “I will support your decision either way.”
Undeterred, Alicia Chen rose to let herself out. “Oh, one more thing. Did I mention that there’s a big cash prize for the winner?”
Batgirl touched the bump on her forehead. It still hurt from when she’d fallen from the ceiling because she had used bargain-basement equipment.
“Think about it,” the producer said. “Think hard, Batgirl. This could be a game changer.”
Later that afternoon, thanks to Bumblebee, everyone had heard that famous TV producer Alicia Chen was on campus.
“Why didn’t she have a meeting with me?” Harley demanded, pouting. She hit a stump with her mallet, sinking it flat into the ground.
Wonder Woman flew across the flight track at top speed, followed closely by Supergirl, who, in an effort to overtake her, slammed into the cushioned wall.
“Dial it down!” Supergirl scolded herself. “Hey, Wonder Woman, what are we talking about?”
“Batgirl’s been invited to be on national TV to showcase her tech savvy,” Wonder Woman reminded her as the two flew back to the starting line. “How awesome is that? This could be big for Super Hero High!”
Batgirl pretended not to hear them as she logged their stats into the computer. The entire solar system was aware that Wonder Woman had led their school to victory in the 100th Super Triathlon. All the media channels had pegged Super Hero High as the school for super heroes, and as Harley was fond of saying, “Any publicity is good publicity, but good publicity is even better good publicity!”
Supergirl put her hand on Batgirl’s shoulder. “How do you feel about this?” she asked. “What does your heart say? What is your brain telling you? What do you want to do?”
Miss Martian suddenly materialized. “You know what you want to do,” she said. “But whether you’ll do it is what you are trying to decide.”
Batgirl couldn’t argue with that. After all, not only could Miss Martian make herself invisible, she could also read minds, which meant that lots of times when Supers saw her coming, they ran away looking guilty. Before Batgirl could respond, Miss Martian was gone. Or was she?
“Why wouldn’t you do it?” Lady Shiva asked, jumping into the conversation.
“Maybe she’s afraid she’s going to fail?” Cheetah purred.
Katana joined the group. “She’s not going to fail,” she assured them. “Batgirl isn’t afraid of anything!”
While everyone debated whether she should be on the show, Batgirl slipped away to her Bat-Bunker, logged on to her computer, and began making a list:
CONS
• Don’t want to.
• Don’t want the publicity.
• Don’t want to show off.
• Don’t want to fail.
PROS
• Brings recognition to Super Hero High.
• Could pay for B.A.T. tech supplies.
• Could be fun?
• Nice to meet other tech-savvy techsters.
Batgirl continued adding to the list, assigning each item a number 1, 2, or 3, reflecting how important it was. Then, at last, she pressed a button and ran the numbers. She nodded when the computer gave her the answer her mind had already calculated.
Yep. That seemed about right.
It was hard to keep a secret at Super Hero High, and soon everyone knew that Batgirl was going to compete on TechTalkTV.
The next day, the Junior Detective Society members cornered Batgirl in the hallway after Liberty Belle’s history class. As students flew, skated, raced, and rolled past them, The Flash spoke up. “It’s totally cool that you’re going to be on the TechTalkTV show. We want to help!”
Hawkgirl closed her wide wings to give passersby a wider berth. “We can find out who your competitors are,” she offered.
“That would be helpful, right?” Poison Ivy asked. She pushed a batch of spotted black beckoning begonias back into her backpack when they threatened to escape.
Batgirl had often admired the synergy the trio had and wished she were a Junior Detective. After all, she loved mysteries and had often helped her father close cases—at least, she used to. Still, she didn’t want the Junior Detective Society members to think she needed help. After all, tech was her specialty. Did they think she couldn’t handle things on her own?
“Thank you,” Batgirl said. “But I’ll run an analysis to see if I can come up with who’s on the list.”
“Oh, okay,” Poison Ivy said, trying to keep the smile on her face.
“Well, if you need any help, we’re here,” Hawkgirl assured her.
“You don’t want our help?” The Flash asked, surprised.
“I’m fine on my own,” Batgirl assured them. “I’m used to going solo when it comes to tech.”
That was true. Most evenings she was alone with her computers and equipment. And before she was a student at Super Hero High, Supers came to her for tech help, not the other way around.
As Batgirl made her way to the Bat-Bunker, someone whispered loudly, “Psssst!”
It was Harley.
“Pssssssssst!!!” she hissed so loudly that Green Lantern bumped into Miss Martian, who turned invisible before he could apologize. “The Internet is abuzz with the names of TechTalkTV competitors,” Harley proclaimed. “I’ve got a list of potentials. Don’t ask me how I got it! Okay, okay, I’ll tell you: Alicia Chen leaked it herself! It’s great publicity. She’s a genius! Of course you’re on the list, but look who else is there!”
Once inside the Bat-Bunker, Batgirl input the names of the one hundred possibilities into her computer. She took her own name off the list to reduce the variables. On another monitor she could hear Harley teasing, “Who will be on TechTalkTV’s pilot show? I know. Do you?”
Batgirl turned down the volume so she could focus. Before long, using complex analytics, demographics, and Internet rumors, she narrowed down the list. As she stared at it, she took a deep breath. In the world of high tech, these were indeed powerhouses.
“We all want to help,” Supergirl began. Several of Batgirl’s friends had gathered with her in Wonder Woman’s room.
“Here at Super Hero High, we’re a team,” Wonder Woman jumped in.
“I can help you with public relations and interviewing,” Harley volunteered. “TV pointers. I can teach you how to project your voice. How to lower it for dramatic effect.”
Batgirl had never considered this. She relished taking tests, but they had all been written, not on television, and certainly not before a live TV audience. No one was sure what the TechTalkTV competition would entail, but Alicia Chen’s shows were famous for their surprises. Batgirl hoped she wouldn’t have to eat bugs.
“I can quiz you,” Supergirl said. “Ask you all sorts of tech-y questions. I might not know the answers, but Doc Magnus said he would give me lists to ask you.”
“I can serve as your overall coach,” Wonder Woman volunteered. “To encourage you and help with morale.”
As Bumblebee, Hawkgirl, Katana, Poison Iv
y, and others told Batgirl how they could help, she felt a lump in her throat. They really and truly wanted her to do the best she could.
“It’s okay to have help,” Miss Martian said shyly, having read her mind. “In fact, it’s not just you who benefits. It’s all of us. At Super Hero High, we work together.”
“Wait! Don’t disappear,” Batgirl begged. “Thank you.”
Miss Martian smiled back. Her green cheeks blushed, but she stayed in the room.
Supergirl tugged on Batgirl’s sleeve and led her to a table where Big Barda was sitting alone. “Let’s sit here,” she said, putting down her tray. It was piled high with corn on the cob, a mountain of mashed potatoes, and fried chicken.
“May we join you?” Batgirl asked Barda.
Big Barda shrugged and continued chewing on a roll and not looking happy. Batgirl wasn’t sure if it was the roll, the fact that she and Supergirl wanted to sit with her, or something else entirely that was making her look like that.
Cheetah was carrying her tray high above her head with one hand and had her books in the other. “She a friend of yours?” she asked, not even attempting to hide her smirk. “ ’Cause I hear Big Barda is bad news.”
“She’s good news!” Supergirl said.
“You don’t know that,” Cheetah said. Others nearby nodded as Catwoman slipped some silverware into the backpack she had just picked up earlier that day. “I’d be careful around her! She can’t be trusted.”
“I can hear you,” Big Barda said, locking eyes with Cheetah.
“You should give her a chance,” Batgirl interjected.
“I don’t have to give her anything.” Cheetah sniffed. “I don’t trust her!”
Several of the Supers around her began nodding, but Batgirl did not.
Barda got up and stormed out of the dining hall.
“See, she’s a bit unhinged,” Cheetah said, smiling sweetly.