Phenom

by Kay Cordell

  “Right. Maybe after the next time the Forever Family saves a Turanilan ambassador, I can ask—”

  “Would you wanna go out with me?”

  “Oh. That was abrupt.”

  “On a date, I mean. In case that wasn’t clear.” His gaze is steady as he waits for her answer.

  Erin remembers a conversation they’d had when she’d call him shy last semester.

  “I’m not shy,” he’d insisted. “I just don’t think my business is anyone else’s.”

  “Reserved, then,” she amended.

  He nodded his approval.

  He’s so deadly serious as he waits patiently for acceptance or rejection that she wants to laugh out loud and call him adorable.

  Her irritation softens. She reminds herself that she actually does like hanging out with him. How many hours have they wasted together this semester alone? What’s one more hangout session?

  “Sure,” she says. “Sounds fun.”

  4

  The next afternoon, Erin takes to the skies and heads towards Ditko Labs, the world-renowned research facility to which many a superhero has turned seeking explanations for the unexplainable. The League introduced Erin and her sisters to the lab’s director mere hours after the “Forever Family” blew up on the evening news the day they got their powers.

  Erin doesn’t have a checkup scheduled at the labs today, but her younger sisters do. And her mom always gets Amber and Jos there at least twenty minutes before their appointment. It usually gives Erin a chance for a quick lunch and check in with them.

  But when she comes into the private waiting room, bearing a greasy paper bag heavy with chicken sandwiches and fries from that spot in Harlem she’d discovered last semester, only Amber, channel surfing through daytime television on the big screen, is there to greet her.

  “Thank, God!” Amber says, tossing the remote aside and grabbing the bag from Erin. “I’m starving.”

  Ditko Labs houses state of the art everything. The whole place is sterile white walls and stainless steel and big windows that offer a glimpse into work being done in some of it’s laboratories.

  It’s not exactly a place where they expected regular visits from teenage girls. But since Dr. Fredericks and her staff accepted responsibility for observing and documenting the Everett Girls’ conditions as well as taking care of their extraordinary medical needs, the labs have practically become a second home. Well, maybe not for Monique. Wherever—or whoever—their oldest sister is this week, she only bothers to show up for a third of her appointments.

  It only took Ditko Labs a couple of months to realize a private waiting room might be in order for their most famous, and most valuable, lab rats. It isn’t a huge room, but it’s a big step up from waiting on the uncomfortable couch in Dr. Fredericks’s office, which Erin suspects people aren’t actually supposed to sit on.

  “Where’re Jos and Mom?” Erin asks.

  A lab tech Erin recognizes but can’t name exchanges a friendly nod as he passes the large waiting room window. She watches him go with a flutter of excitement. This summer, that will be her. Thanks to her persistence, Dr. Fredericks agreed to give her an internship. It’s a once-in-lifetime opportunity for a biomedical engineering major like her.

  “Jos is in the chamber, so you know Mom is right outside it.” Amber thumbs the top layer of her sandwich and inspects its insides with open suspicion. “Did you say no mayo?”

  “No, I asked for extra. Wasn’t your appointment at two?”

  Amber gives Erin a look just short of sticking out her tongue. “Noon.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since Dr. Fredericks scheduled it for noon.”

  “Shoot.”

  Jos is never in a good mood after her appointments. When she got her powers, it wasn’t only a matter of gaining a few impressive party tricks. It changed her physical appearance too. As a result, she has to tolerate more pocking and prodding than Erin and Amber have to sit through. It’s why Amber is always done earlier than their baby sister.

  It’s also why when Jos comes out, she’ll be hiding under the hood of her sweatshirt and won’t come out for the rest of the day. And to be it honest, it’s Jos Erin wanted to see the most.

  Grabbing the remote, Erin settles onto the couch beside Amber. Like rest of the lab, white dominated their waiting room. The couch and butterfly chairs, the coffee table and bookshelves, the curtains framing the view over the Upper East Side, all white. And then there’s the shaggy, purple rug, which Erin can only guess is someone’s attempt to make the space more teen friendly.

  “Are you looking out for her at school?” Erin asks, flipping through channels in that way her mom hates.

  “Who?” Amber says around a mouthful of sandwich.

  “Your little sister, genius. Who do you think I mean?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s such a stupid question I wanted to make sure,” Amber swallows and takes a swig from the can of orange Slice she must have gotten from the vending machine down the hall. “Of course I look out for her. But if she’s so determined to be a mopey, goth chick, there’s only so much I can do for her.”

  “Don’t be like that. All of this hardest on Jos.”

  “Look, all I’m saying is that she was a mopey, goth chick before she turned into five feet of indestructible, sparkly obsidian, or whatever she’s made of now.”

  “It’s an extraordinarily durable, flexible and responsive exoskeleton composed of bonded calcium carbonate, keratin, and a unique form of crystalline aluminum oxide.”

  “Blah, blah. She’s a freak.”

  “Amber!” Erin reflexively looks over her shoulder to make sure Jos isn’t around to overhear.

  “I didn’t say it’s a bad thing!” Amber says between bites of fries. “But I keep telling her she needs to embrace it, not pretend that if she could just make herself small enough maybe no one will notice she doesn’t look human anymore.”

  Erin sits back, arms semi-crossed. She taps the remote to her chin absently. “You might have a point, but how does her big sister calling her a freak help her?”

  “You big sister your way. I’ll do it mine.”

  On the TV screen, Susan Lucci is delivering a monologue to the bundled baby in her arms. Erin resumes her channel surfing, without use of the remote this time.

  “It’s just…” Erin says, “Jos has always been shy, but this is different. I miss the old Jos who I could make smile so easily and giggled non-stop once she got started. Maybe I should—”

  “Ohmigosh, Erin!” Amber’s eyes flash a fiery gold, a mini solar flare. The picture on the TV jumps, scrambled for a brief moment. “You worry too much! Jos is going through what she has to go through. You can’t stop it, you can’t protect her from it, and smothering her isn’t helping. She is not going to be who she was before this happened, but she will be okay. I promise. So can you stop trying to carry the world’s problems and just be? For like five minutes.”

  Erin frowns at her little sister. “Be what?”

  “I don’t know. Normal.”

  “Normal? You think that’s an option for us.”

  “I think it is when you accept that some things are just going to suck and move the hell on with your life.”

  “Watch your language, Amber,” their mom says coming into the room. Jos drags her feet behind her, head bowed. Her face is hidden in her dark, faded hood and a wig with bangs so long it’s a wonder she can see where she’s going. All of Jos’ wigs have exaggerated bangs. Erin only catches a glimpse of her shimmering, obsidian-black face.

  “‘ Hell’ isn’t a bad word, Mom,” Amber says. “It’s in the Bible.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that word. How are you, pumpkin?” This last part is for Erin, who’s risen from the couch to give her mom a quick hug.

  “What ‘suck’? ‘Suck’ isn’t a bad word either. You can say ‘suck’ on TV which means it isn’t a bad word.”

  “Say that word one more time.” Roberta Everett looks over h
er tortoise shell glasses in a blaring, motherly warning.

  “So guys,” Erin interjects before Amber can get herself into trouble. “Wanna hang out on campus for a while?” She nudges Jos playfully, when really she wants to pull Jos’ hood back so she can see her baby sister’s face. “Whadya say?”

  “Yeah!” Amber says. “Let’s go!”

  “I just wanna go home,” Jos mumbles.

  Amber wheels on her mom, hands folded together as if in prayers. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t stay, right?”

  “Not today,” their mom sighs, adjusting her purses strap on her shoulder. “Let’s get across that bridge. Oh, Erin, did you catch Oprah on Wednesday?”

  “I have class Wednesday afternoons.”

  “Well, you should have seen it. Oprah was talking to this young woman who was taken advantage of at a school party and nobody held that boy responsible. It was heartbreaking. She’d been drinking—”

  “Don’t worry. I know my limit. I mean, I don’t drink. As I am underage.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her mom doesn’t sound especially convinced. “I just want to make sure you’re being careful. I know that as far as you’re concerned, you’re grown and practically living on your own, but you always have to be aware of your surroundings—”

  “Mom. I’m literally a superhero. If a guy tries to get fresh with me I can I send him into the stratosphere.”

  “Still, be safe out there.”

  Erin breathes, reminds herself that her mom just wants what’s best for her.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Mrs. Everett herds the protesting Amber and despondent Jos toward the elevator. Erin watches them go, then makes her way to the roof for her own exit.

  5

  Toya answers the knock when it comes at 7pm on the dot, but she only opens the door a few inches, in consideration of Erin who’s throwing on a dress behind her.

  “What?” Toya says into the hallway. “You expected her to be ready on time? When did you make those reservations for?”

  “7:30,” comes Carter’s voice.

  “Mmph. Smart man would’ve made them for nine. Maybe even ten.”

  “Shut up,” Erin says shoving her feet into her boots. “I’m ready. I’m ready.”

  It really isn’t her fault that she’s running a teeny bit late. She’d been heading straight back to campus when a frantic looking man waved her down from a traffic-clogged street. It turned out the man’s wife was in labor but the streets were so gridlocked they were going nowhere.

  Flying the entire cab to the hospital seemed like a simple enough solution, but once they landed the driver was up in arms about being cheated of the fare he would’ve made had he driven the whole way.

  Words were exchanged as the nurses rushed a wheelchair out and loaded up the moaning, groaning wife. Next thing everyone knew, the husband had punched the driver, the driver demanded the man be arrested, and Erin separated the two with the wife shrieking at both men the whole time.

  The fun part was that a news van happened to be there for some story about a doctor who had saved a child’s life while on a flight coming in from China. Naturally, the news crew caught the entire ordeal on camera.

  By the time everything was resolved to everyone’s satisfaction and with no arrests, Erin noticed a twelve-year-old kid watching her. He hung back from the excitement, but she could tell he wanted to meet her so she approached him, figuring she’d sign a quick autograph and be on her way. Once she heard his request for his sick little sister, saying no wasn’t an option.

  And that’s how she ended up spending three hours in the children’s ward, reading stories, coloring and individually floating about a bajillion kids in circles around their rooms.

  She made it back to the dorm with twenty minutes to get ready for her date. After taking the fastest shower ever and throwing on her clothes with breathtaking speed, she jumps in front of the mirror to pull her individuals into a high ponytail so that the long braids fall dramatically around her shoulders.

  “Take your time,” Carter says from the other side of the door.

  “Thanks.”

  Giving her reflection a quick, final once over, she nods approval. There’s a reason she hasn’t returned this yellow shift dress to her sister. Amber doesn’t need it. She has plenty of dresses. Besides, Erin had purchased these brown knee-high boots specifically to wear with it. That basically makes the dress hers now.

  Though maybe she should have toned it down a notch. Considering this is really just a pity date, she wouldn’t want Carter getting the impression she put a lot of effort into her appearance for him.

  Erin pulls the door the rest of way open, saving Carter from hearing the rest of Toya’s unsolicited dating tips.

  “W—well,” Erin says, taking in this new, cleaned up version of Carter. He’s gotten a haircut, sporting a fresh fade in place of shoving his usual worn Baseball cap over an unruly almost Fro. With his thin, light blue sweater drawing her attention to muscles he’s apparently been hiding under his many sweatshirts, he could give Taye Diggs a run for his money.

  Wait, is she gawking? At Carter?

  She swallows. “You clean up nice.”

  “That’s what my mama always told me,” he said in that measured, unrushed way of his. “Glad to know she hasn’t been lying to me all these years.”

  “Of course, he looks good,” Toya says. “Who do you think picked out that sweater? Well, have fun you two.”

  She shuts the door, effectively pushing Erin into the hallway.

  “You look beautiful,” Carter says. “But you always do.”

  “Thank you,” she says. Face warming. For some reason, she can’t meet his steady gaze. “Shall we?”

  They walk in silence. Erin braces herself for yesterday’s awkwardness to return and choke the air between them. It bothered her to think they might have lost something important. Carter is usually pretty awkward around people he doesn’t know too well, and he’s not great in large groups, but it’s never like that whenever it’s just the two of them.

  They leave Kirby Hall behind them, and she’s still waiting for that uneasy tension to come back. They make it all the way up 119th and it still hasn’t hit. It isn’t until they turn onto Amsterdam that she begins to suspect that yesterday’s weirdness after the movie was due to the extenuating circumstances. This silence feels the same as it ever has between them. Comfortable.

  “Split a cab?” she asks as they wait for a light to change at an intersection with the other gathering pedestrians.

  “The restaurant isn’t far. Wanna walk?”

  They walk. An easy meander. Erin wonders if they’re the only unhurried people in the entire city. It’s as if Carter has brought a piece of the South with him. Not that she’s ever been any further South than D.C., but this is how she imagines an easy Southern summer day feels. Like Carter Neeson.

  “I saw that crazy Super Mario thing you built in the common room,” Erin says. “Impressive. Maybe you should major in engineering.”

  When the tubs of Legos appeared mysteriously in the 6th floor common room back in the fall, plenty of the students scoffed that they were way too old for toys, but Carter went to work.

  While a 18-year-old playing with Legos sounds kind of corny on paper, it didn’t take long for Carter and his increasingly complex creations to earn the respect of Kirby Hall’s residents. It broke Erin’s heart every time he took apart his latest work of art to use as building material for the next thing.

  “Thanks,” Carter says. “It’s helps me shut out all the noise in my head.”

  “See, it’s when you say things like that it makes me think I shouldn’t turn my back on you.”

  He huffs a laugh, but his smile is gone as quickly as it had appeared.

  “Why don’t you ever smile?” Erin says.

  “Hmm?”

  “It’s like sometimes you want to, but you always stop yourself.”

  “Braces. Started high school with them. They didn
’t come off until the summer after junior year. I have yet to recover.”

  “Braces and glasses!” Erin claps her hands from the pure joy of imagining it. “Tell me you also wore your pants hitched up to your belly button.”

  “With suspenders.”

  “Now, I know I was joking, but I’m not sure you are.”

  “You’ll just have to lie awake at night trying to separate the truth from the lies.”

  “Or I could call your mom. I bet she wouldn’t mind sending a box of photos.”

  “Tell her who you are and she’ll send a few pies while she’s at it.”

  “She’s a fan?”

  “My biggest,” Carter says.

  She glances at him sideways and catches a smile that doesn’t flit. For a moment she forgets that she’s anything more than a girl out on a date with a guy who thinks she’s someone special.

  That is until they turn a corner and the barrage of camera flashes nearly blind her.

  She hadn’t known which restaurant Carter was taking her to, but the mob of paparazzi flashing away and shouting for her attention gave her a bit of a clue.

  Carter freezes beside her, the very image of a deer caught in the headlights.

  “Somebody sold me out,” Erin grumbles.

  Campus security is surprisingly good at keeping the paparazzi from invading the campus, but on occasion a few industrious photographers manage to sneak on to campus. Half the time when that happens, her fellow students, even ones she’s never spoken to, step in to ruin the photos and tell the intruder where they could go. Nobody wants the campus swarming with those opportunistic buzzards. The entire rest of the city, however, is fair game.

  “I—I didn’t tell anybody where we were going,” Carter says.

  “Except Nate, right?”

  “He wouldn’t have called them.”

  “I know, but it just takes one person to overhear you talking and figure it’s a quick way to make some extra Top Ramen money. C’mon.”

  She slips her hand into his, squeezes tight and charges toward the restaurant. There are many upsides to having the ability to move things, and people, with her mind. In that moment, at the top of her list is how easy it is to cut a path through a frothing sea of stalkerazzi. The gruff men smelling of stale cigarette smoke grumble and protest as they find themselves shoved aside by an invisible force.