Power to the Purple!

by Sophie Bell

  With a swift smack, Iris knocked it right out of his hand. It went sailing across the room and smashed into the wall, where it left a greasy black stain. Before Sebastian could even react, Iris whipped out a spare candy ring from her hoodie pocket and popped it into his mouth like a baby’s pacifier.

  “To go with the bracelet!” she said, blinking at him with her periwinkle eyes. “None out of five dentists says candy freshens breath and helps prevent cavities! Instead of that gunky green weirdness, okay? For me?”

  Sebastian gazed into those pale blue pools, slightly shocked, wondering what had just happened. But then the taste of the blueberry candy—a little bit sweet, a little bit sour, a little bit tart, and definitely deep—brought the smile back to his face. He was reminded again that Iris always surprised him. She was certainly a strange girl. And there was something deep and wonderful about that, too.

  “Okay, Iris,” he murmured, lowering his head toward hers, talking with the candy ring between his teeth. “For you, I think I would do anything.”

  Eeek! Iris blushed violet, two heart-shaped spots blooming on her cheeks. OMV, how come every time she got with Sebastian there was always a mutant or a mob of zombotic kids or whatever to deal with?! But boys come and go. And her girls needed her! With all the self-control she could muster, she lifted her head slightly, and before their lips could touch, she pulled back just a bit and said, “Really? Anything?”

  “For reals,” Sebastian whispered in her ear.

  Iris glanced over her shoulder. Cheri and Scarlet had some of the kids rounded up, but there were still plenty of stragglers pulverizing everything in their path. Opal was shooting electrical currents at Scarlet’s superfast feet. BellaBritney was shaking her stubby pompom in Cheri’s face. Darth had squirted so much sweet violet stink into the eyes of zombos, the air was thick with his smog. Iris swallowed, wishing she didn’t have to manipulate her crush like this. But she did.

  “Then would you mind helping my friends get everyone together?” she asked. “For, um, a special surprise to end the party. The last performance art piece! You could be a part of it!”

  “Okay, cool!” Sebastian replied with real enthusiasm—because he was an artist as well. “And then we can meet up after, just the two of us?”

  “Definitely!” Iris said, a catch in her throat. For an instant she felt like she might cry. Sebastian was so nice, and it seemed like all she ever did was fool him. But for a good cause! To hide her tears, she flung her arms around his waist and gave him a tight squeeze as he wobbled on his hoverboard. “Thank you!” she mumbled, wiping her eyes on his T-shirt. “Thank you so much!”

  Sebastian didn’t notice how torn Iris was. Her hug only seemed to encourage him more. “No problem!” he practically crowed, the candy ring still clenched between his teeth. And he zoomed off toward the center of the room.

  Iris took a deep breath. Dabbed her eyes with the sleeve of her ugly beige hoodie. And turned her attention back to the table of BeauTek baddy bags. She might not get another chance. In a blink, she turned up her heat again, until her fingertips throbbed and her eyes blazed. Glowering at the gift bags, aiming both hands at them, she scorched them to a crisp with a double blast of ultraviolet beams. Her fire burned so hot that the glass vials melted before they could burst, and all the chemicals in the perfume exploded into a mini mushroom cloud. Or maybe it looked more like a broccoli floret. The hideous yellow baggies, the BeauTek potion inside them, the creepy brackenish bits, the cheap plastic tablecloth: Within seconds, they had all disintegrated to a smoldering layer of charcoaled dust.

  Iris dropped her temperature again, low enough that she wouldn’t burn holes through everything she looked at, everything she touched. And then, for good measure, she took another breath and—OhmV—blew at the cinders.

  They scattered off the table and into nothingness.

  * * *

  The score at halftime: L’eau d’Opes = up in smoke. Opaline and the zombos = still going strong. Sebastian and his hoverboarding buddies were helping with the roundup, herding strays behind the holiday-light line for what they hoped would be an awesome end-of-party performance. But Scarlet was dancing on her own, all the way on the other side of the room. She arched her feet in relevé and searched for the next zombotomized classmate. She could see Opal and Cheri fighting over Abby O’Adams, who had recovered from her fainting spell but still had tomato sauce on her face.

  Scarlet knew she possessed superstrength and delivered precision pirouettes. But she was still a bit surprised at how smoothly her part of Operation Get-O had gone. She could hear plates and glasses shattering all around her, but never once did she get hit. If she needed a chair to knock some kid into, one would suddenly appear at her side. And it seemed like fresh zombotrons didn’t stumble her way until she’d dealt with the ones before them. When they did reach her, some of them already had their hands tied behind their backs with ripped-up party streamers or knotted cloth napkins. Scarlet didn’t get it. Cheri was roller-skating in the middle of the chaos, Darth riding on her shoulders. Iris was off obliterating the baddy bags. How could either one of them possibly have time to be helping her, too?

  Scarlet jetéed onto a table, pressed down her tongue with two fingers, and whistled sharply across the room. Cheri glanced up from her tug-o’-Abby-O’Adams with Opal, and Scarlet flashed her the V sign. Then she jumped down again and dashed over to the retro jukebox. Sure enough, behind it was an electrical outlet with one socket free. Scarlet stretched the cord of holiday lights taut. Her long bangs brushed across her eyes, and she stuck out her lower lip in concentration, completely forgetting how Cheri’s glittery gloss had felt so funny at first. She was just . . . about . . . there . . . when . . .

  She felt something rapidly wrapping around her. Coiling around her thighs, then her hips, then her waist, then her arms. Tightening . . .

  “Hey!” Scarlet cried out in alarm as she was lifted off the ground.

  Gripping Scarlet with her scaly tail, her forked tongue flicking with smug satisfaction, was her old cafeteria nemesis Karyn Karson. The girl she’d once humiliated by ninja-kicking a bowl of ravioli on her head—but only to stop her from throwing them at Albert Feinstein. And look where that got me! Scarlet thought, struggling against the constricting lizard lock. Back then, Karyn was just a mean girl. But now she was a mutant. Which meant she was strong, too.

  “Sssscarlet Louisssse Jonessss,” Karyn sibilated, her reptile eyes narrowed to slits. “I alwaysss sssussspected it wasss you who dumped thhhat ravioli on me. But you know whhhen I figured it out for ssssure?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care!” Scarlet shot back, trying to kick her in the stomach. With K-Liz’s tail notched tight around her thighs, she could scarcely move her feet.

  “It wasss at your audition for the ssschool play,” Karyn seethed. “Whhhen I sssaw how hhhigh and how fffar and how fffassssst you jumped.”

  “Or maybe Opal just told you!” Scarlet spat, wrestling to break free. She still gripped the cord of the holiday lights in her hand. But Karyn’s tail squeezed around her shoulders. Scarlet wondered if this was what mummies felt like, or magicians in straitjackets. She wanted to scream out, for Iris, for Cheri. But Karyn had her bound so tight, she could barely breathe. “And you deserved it!” Scarlet gasped. “You were catapulting ravioli at Albert! Now you and Two-Face and Opal have rewired his brain!” Panting, she added, “Can’t you get friends any other way than by being a bully?”

  At this Karyn just laughed, and as her ha-ha-has slid past her forked tongue, they just came out as hisses. “The more you ssstruggle,” she said, that split tongue tip licking at Scarlet’s ear, “the tighhhter I ssssqueeze.”

  Scarlet rocked her shoulders and flailed her feet. She held her breath and pushed out so hard she thought the freckles might pop off her cheeks. Karyn just ha-ha-hissed all the more, enjoying her pain.

  This is it
! Scarlet despaired. I’m gonna die at Opal’s insane birthday party, crushed by a mutant lizard girl while a clown plays the saxophone! I’ll never get to be Little Orphan Annie! I’ll never get to dance again!

  This last realization was too much to bear. Never to pas de deux or tango or paso doble, to flamenco or fandango or bhangra, never to feel that movement, that glorious freedom. Ever!

  No.

  It couldn’t be over.

  Oh swell no!

  Not yet.

  There was still one part of Scarlet’s body that K-Liz hadn’t wrapped her tail around.

  “This,” Scarlet growled through gritted teeth, “is gonna hurt me. But it’s gonna hurt you more!”

  Like a bucking bronco, her aubergine ponytail swishing behind her, Scarlet reared back, ready to deliver a superpowered head-butt that would surely knock her unconscious, too. But just as her forehead made contact with K-Liz’s scaly brow, the mutant let out an ear-piercing ssscreech and her tail lost all its tension. Scarlet tumbled to the floor. K-Liz’s butchered tail dropped down with her.

  “Gah!” Scarlet screamed. She tried to scooch away but couldn’t move, all the feeling gone from her body. The chopped-off tail flopped beside her like a fish out of water. Above her, Karyn spun in circles, clutching at the stump where it had been. And standing a step behind, cake knife in hand, was Agent Jack Baxter.

  “You!” Scarlet gasped, propping herself up on her knees, her legs still numb. “You were the one helping me all along!”

  Agent Jack’s chest rose and fell beneath his black suit jacket. But he said nothing.

  “I totally had that, you know,” Scarlet stated, shakily getting to her feet as a still-shrieking Karyn slithered away. “I was just about to—”

  “Head-butt her to infinity and beyond,” Agent Jack said, offering her his arm. “Yeah, I saw. And yeah, I know. You’re a rock star, Scarlet Jones. You’re a supergirl. You don’t need some lil’ boy’s help. So don’t even say it.”

  “Fine, I won’t.” Scarlet managed a trembly shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. But she did grip Jack’s arm as if it were a ballet barre, to steady herself. And something about what he’d said made her feel just as trembly inside.

  They stood there for a moment, each eyeing the other warily. The chaos of the roundup crashed on behind them. “Why did you do it?” Scarlet asked at last, in a softened voice, as one of Opal’s stray lightning bolts streaked high above their heads. “You’re on their side. You’re a spy for BeauTek.”

  At this Agent Jack just breathed out heavily and shook his head. Scarlet could see that there must have been much he wanted to say. But he kept it all inside. “Guess I’m curious to see your big stage debut,” he answered, dodging the question. “How many Lil’ Orphan Annies have black belts in taekwondo?”

  Scarlet felt herself starting to smile. To stop it, she gave herself a weak thump on the shoulder. But it was no use. She kept smiling anyway.

  “That, um, purple glitter stuff,” Agent Jack mumbled. “On your. Face. Looks . . . good.”

  “Thanks,” Scarlet said, embarrassed. She realized she was still holding his arm. “Hey, I think you might have grown an inch! Since that last time I saw you. After the, um, poker game,” she babbled, even more embarrassed as she recalled her swirlie threats.

  “Affirmatively?” Jack said, surprised. And finally he allowed himself the lil’est of smiles, too. Though he quickly grew serious again. “Are you going to take me down now, with all these zombos?” he asked. “Because I work for BeauTek?”

  “I probably should . . .” Scarlet searched his face, waiting to see if he’d ask her not to. But she couldn’t quite read his expression.

  “Probably,” was all he said.

  “But—” It was hard for Scarlet to admit this next part. Sometimes the truth hurts. “You did just sort of save my life.”

  “You’re welcome,” Agent Jack answered, figuring that was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. He cleared his throat. “So I guess you have a ‘single awesome solar event’ to do . . .”

  “OMV!” Scarlet realized, the light cord still clasped tightly in her hand. She let go of Jack’s arm and grand-pliéed down, reached behind the jukebox in arabesque, then plugged it in. Rainbow colors twinkled all the way across the room.

  And when Scarlet pliéed back up, Agent Jack was once again gone.

  Solar Awesomeness

  HOW VERY THOUGHTFUL OF THE ULTRA VIOLETS TO decorate Opaline’s brainwashing party with holiday lights! Ha ha, no, not really. Although a string of pretty bling certainly couldn’t hurt, because things had gotten très ugly there in Tom’s Diner.

  And Opaline’s twelfth birthday wasn’t over yet.

  Like Superman’s kid sister, Scarlet bounced over to Cheri and Iris in a single bound. Immediately the girls began winding the other end of the holiday lights around each of the zombotomized students clustered together in the sticky brussels sprout puddle: Rachel and Abby; Martin and Brad; Julie and the Jensen twins; and, of course, Albert. Whenever Opal or BellaBritney tried to stop them, Cheri wheeled around on her platform roller skates and—oh how the odors had turned!—Darth squirted them with a sickening perfume of his own.

  Considering that not five minutes before, Scarlet herself had been wrapped up in a lizard tail, it was a curious flip-flop of events. Being bound by a lizard tail had been hideous. At least the holiday lights were pretty. Yet the question remained: What strange party game were the Ultra Violets playing?

  Indeed, just as they abhorred beige, the Ultra Violets adored bright colors. Few things were more merry and bright than holiday lights—maybe a rainbow, but that’s it. Tying up the zombos with such a cheerful string could have been a way to make them happier again.

  But that’s not why the Ultra Violets did it.

  The holiday lights were rigged. By them. Each tiny bulb had been cracked open and its wires exposed. By them! As Cher and Scar and RiRi loop-de-looped and do-si-doed around the corralled kids, they hooked each one up to a light. Some got connected at their braces. Some got attached at their earrings. Still others at their nose studs. And for those students who had neither metal piercings nor braces? The girls had no choice but to paper-clip a light directly onto their earlobe.

  Yes, the rejiggered string of holiday lights was, in fact, a homemade . . . well, Albert put it best, announcing it to the whole room as a festive orange bulb blinked from his braces.

  “It is a multi-clamp jumper cable,” he rattled off, still in robotone.

  Cheri tsk-tsked at the sight of him. Hooking a holiday light to Albert’s braces had done nothing to improve his pleated pants situation. “We’re not going to win any decorating awards with this mess!” she said, surveying the twinkling mob.

  Iris was just taking her tablet out of her messenger bag. “Think of it as modern art instead,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at Sebastian. He and his buds had hovered off to the back wall, waiting to see just what this final performance piece was going to be.

  Scarlet patched the other end of the cord into Iris’s computer while Cheri clicked open the program they’d created. “Just don’t hit me, okay?” Scarlet said. “’Cause by now I probably sweated off all my sunscreen.”

  “No worries!” Iris promised, powering up again. “My aim is a lot better than it used to be.”

  “Hurry, guys,” Cheri urged, casting a worried glance at Opal, who was going from table to table splashing glasses of water into her face to rinse her stinging eyes of Darth’s stench. “Those lights won’t hold the class for long!” From his hiding spot back inside the tote bag, Darth nudged up her cat-eye sunglasses. Cheri passed them to Scarlet.

  “Then let’s get this party ended,” Scarlet declared, looking more like a rock star than ever in Cheri’s black shades. She flipped the tablet over and held it above her head, old-school boom-box style. The back, not the
screen, faced Iris. The back of her solar-powered, solar-paneled computer. “Fire away!” Scarlet cried.

  “And remember,” Cheri whispered to Iris. She couldn’t look directly at her anymore because she was already beaming. “For the mass transient variation of current, hit the solar panels with extreme ultraviolet C-level radiation—in the range of about a hundred nanometer rays.”

  “Um, okay, Cher,” Iris said nervously. She actually hadn’t the slightest clue how to measure that. To Iris, extreme ultraviolet was just the opposite of beige. The best she could do, she figured, was shine diamond-bright.

  Iris bore down on the solar panels, drilling two blistering, near-invisible, violet light beams at them with her eyes. She raised both hands and pointed both pinkies and shot laser-thin UV rays. The panels soaked up the tremendous influx of solar energy. Sent it from the tablet computer out through the cord. And it coursed into all the holiday lights clamped to the zombo class. The currents began to crackle back into their brains, reactivating the nerve centers Opal had numbed with her signature scent. Some kids began to jerk spasmodically, sparking and blinking wherever the light was attached to their head. Slowly, some of them started to smile.

  “It’s working!” Cheri shouted, her mind racing with ratios. “Iris, turn it up three more degrees and your solar power surge will override Opal’s shutdown!”

  Iris didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Every ounce of her attention, every drop of her energy, was pouring out of her. If only she could burn a little brighter . . .

  “Stop! Stop it stop it stop it!” Opal’s command ricocheted across the room, backed up by a ridiculous cheer of “S-T-O-P Stop!”

  Iris didn’t stop. She wasn’t even sure where Opal was, and she didn’t dare turn her head to look—she’d burn everything in her sight line. But through the screen of Cher’s black sunglasses, Scarlet spotted their ex-bestie.