by Jamie Zakian
“Hey,” he said, as if they were best buds.
With the massive lump in Shay’s throat, she didn’t think it possible but she managed a pathetic, “Hey.”
“You umm …” He slanted forward to better stare at Shay. “Do we know each other?”
“I don’t think so.” Shay’s smile was so big, her words came out in somewhat of a snort and she covered her face. Firestorm was totally hitting on her.
“I’m not hitting on you.”
Shay flinched and her head knocked against the railing at her back. Firestorm was totally reading her mind.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. “I thought I … Never mind. So, you hang out in stairwells a lot?”
“Kinda. My sister works here. I’m just waiting for her.”
“Your outfit is …” He rubbed his chin, eyeing Shay up and down. “Different.”
Of all the days to meet a superhero. Though, Shay’s attire would probably be a mismatched disaster on any day. “Yeah. I lost a bet, or something.”
“Really?”
“No.” Shay didn’t lie, and she wasn’t about to start now because an incredibly hot guy batted his eyes at her. “I just made that up, and I have no idea why.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I’m a complete weirdo,” Shay said, lowering her head with shame. She could memorize the atomic number and symbol of every element on the periodic table, yet couldn’t master the art of social interactions. “You should hurry, flame away.”
His chuckle caused butterflies to whirl in her stomach. She looked at him. Their stares connected, and the butterflies in her tummy upgraded from whirlwind to uncontrollable frenzy status.
Firestorm was a legit superhero, a person movie stars swooned over, but something bigger enamored Shay. Her guard had dropped, on its own. She’d never felt this comfortable with another person.
“Max,” he said. Like he needed an introduction.
“I know. Max Storm. Hey. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. It’s only fair, since I interrupted your stairwell chillin’ time.”
“Last night, what did you say to Antiserum?”
Max’s flirty grin twisted to a hard stare, which shriveled Shay’s spine.
“Why do you ask?”
She couldn’t tell Max she was trying to debunk her bestie’s gay theory. It would be crass, and a cover. There were actual reasons she wanted to know what a hero would say to a villain, ones that kept her awake at night.
“Antiserum killed my parents, ten years ago, when he tossed a subway car into our apartment building. I was hurt pretty bad, have a huge scar on my side. I guess … I just hope he suffers as much as the people he’s hurt.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, to your family.” Max slumped against the wall beside him. “I know what day you’re talking about. I’ll never forget it. Antiserum took someone from me that day, too.”
“Starflux. She was your girlfriend, right?”
Max snickered. It wasn’t a happy one, but the sad, broken kind. “Her name was Jenna. Jenna Reagan. We grew up together, in the same group home. Right here in Gemini City.”
“And you were both selected for the space program, the youngest cadets ever.”
“Well.” Max leaned close to Shay. His arm pressed against her own and sparks ignited beneath her skin. “I hacked the supercomputer, added our names on. Don’t ever tell anybody.”
Max’s warm breath flowed over Shay’s cheek, shuddering her muscles. She bit into her bottom lip, but it wouldn’t stop quivering. An attempt to reply with her body’s erratic behavior would only end in embarrassment, so she nodded.
“Twenty people went up in that spaceship to study long-term effects of living in space, but only four of us came back. We were … different, changed.”
Shay knew this story, had read it in every magazine. “A nebula wave from a distant galaxy hit your shuttle, ending the mission a year in. You, Jenna, Simon, and Alexie were the only survivors.”
“No. I joined up with Simon and Alexie after I came back. It was me, Jenna, and the Grant brothers who made it through that mission. Lucius and Cyrus.”
“Who’s Lucius and Cyrus?”
“Antiserum and Dr. Mayhem.”
“You knew them, before.”
“Yeah. We were good friends, had big plans on how to make the world a better place. Then that nebula wave blasted us. We watched so many die onboard that shuttle, stranded in space.”
Max glanced at Shay and a hint of guilt filled his stare. He must be divulging superhero secrets. The tabloids, newspapers, not even vloggers mentioned the villains. Supposedly, their identities were a mystery. Some mystery, one the government probably forced the media to create.
“The four of us were alone up there when our powers started to manifest. After we landed, Lucius and Cyrus got scary. Jenna and I pushed them into a corner. That night, when your parents and Jenna died, it was our first fight and I failed.”
Max’s hand landed on Shay’s knee and he squeezed. “I failed, Jenna, you, and hundreds of others.”
Sorrow radiated off Max, practically vibrating the air. Shay always wondered if superheroes stopped to think about the innocent lives they’d taken. To know Max dwelled on it didn’t soothe her own anguish. It actually made her feel worse.
“It’s not your fault.” Shay placed her hand atop Max’s, rubbing gently. “I’m sure you tried your hardest. I don’t blame you for what happened to me and my parents. It was just fate.”
“You don’t have to comfort me. I’m a superhero.” Max smiled, but it clashed with the sadness in his eyes.
Shay didn’t have to comfort him. She wanted to. Max had incredible strength, powers that broke the laws of physics, but he was also a fellow human being who suffered.
Gently, Shay nudged Max’s arm with her elbow. “Even a hero needs comfort.”
Like a magnet, Max leaned into her and all the oxygen seemed to whoosh from the room. A surge of heat flared inside Shay’s chest, burning white hot within seconds. She didn’t understand the sensation, hadn’t called for it. Max’s very presence awakened something deep within her, something foreign. She couldn’t identify the tingle in her chest, which meant she couldn’t stop it.
The door behind Shay squealed open, crashing against the stairwell wall, and both Shay and Max jumped to their feet.
“Shay? What the …” Evie’s eyes grew wide as she looked at Shay and Max, standing side by side on the top step in the narrow stairwell, and her cheeks burned bright red. “Get over here.”
Mr. Amazing and Electric-Luxie started down the stairs as Shay hurried to Evie’s side.
“What’s this?” Electric-Luxie pointed at Shay, yet kept her gaze on Evie. “A little sister? I bet she’d like to spend the day flying around the city with a superhero.”
“Don’t even try it.” Evie stomped forward. She stopped at the edge of the stairs, staring Electric-Luxie in the eyes. “The summons stands. It’s about time you three take responsibility for your actions.”
“You’re making a huge mistake, Evie Sinclair.” Lightning crackled between Electric-Luxie’s fingers as she narrowed her stare on Evie.
“I’m not afraid of you, Electric-Luxie,” Evie said through gritted teeth.
Shay all but cowered in the corner of the small landing, unlike her hardheaded sister. Evie stood firm, completely unfazed by the raging superhero in front of her. It was incredible to witness, and terrifying.
“Come on.” Mr. Amazing took Electric-Luxie by the arm, luring her down the steps. “We’ll see you in court, Ms. Sinclair.”
“Have a good evening, Mr. Ling.”
Evie crossed her arms and stared at Max, who remained on the top step.
“I’ll see you around sometime, Shay Sinclair,” Max said. He ignored Evie’s hard glower, grinned at Shay, then trotted down the stairs.
“Ok
ay.” A tiny giggle skirted from Shay’s mouth, too quick to stop. Her giddy cloud burst when Evie’s grumpy face fell into view.
“What were you doing with that man?” Evie latched onto Shay’s arm and pulled her from the stairwell.
The heavy door slammed closed behind them once they walked in the hallway and Shay yanked her arm from Evie’s clutch. “Nothing. We were just talking.”
“It looked like you two were holding hands.”
“That’s …” Shay strained to hold a blank expression, since the memory of her palm resting atop Max’s hand pushed for a smile to invade her lips. “That didn’t happen.”
Evie turned toward her office, only to collide into her secretary.
“Sorry, dear,” Ms. Mayfair said. She handed Evie her briefcase and long coat. “You were great today.”
“Thank you,” Evie said softly. She turned to look at Shay and her stare grew cold. “Let’s go,” she barked.
Evie stormed down the hallway, jabbing the button beside the elevator, and Shay slowly trudged behind. They made it through the elevator ride and out the lobby without exchanging a single word, but when they got into a cab Evie’s cork popped.
“I don’t want you speaking to that man ever again. He’s twice your age.”
Up until now, Shay did everything her sister asked. She trusted in Evie, completely. This, however, she couldn’t agree with. She refused to penalize a person based on such a trivial classification as one’s age.
“I know math was never your strong suit but Max is hardly twice my age. He’s only twenty-six.”
“Max?” Evie’s shout took Shay into a cringe. “Really?” She waved her hand, as if clearing the taxi of some offensive odor. “No. I’m not feeling dinner tonight.”
“Good. I’m not hungry anyway.” Shay sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. The light touch of Max’s fingertips still tingled on her leg, and his voice continued to hum inside her ears.
There had been a connection between her and Max, one she was certain her overactive imagination blew completely out of proportion. The conversation she’d just had with a superhero in a musty stairwell probably played out much differently in real life than in her memory. In fact, it didn’t matter what had happened between her and Max. She’d never see him again outside her television.
Shay burst into Ollie’s bedroom. Her abrupt entrance must have scared the crap of out him because a little yelp flew from his lips as he spun in his desk chair to face the door.
“I was right,” she yelled in Ollie’s face. She strolled into his room, shutting the door behind her. “Firestorm is so cis-hetero.”
“How do you know?”
“Because.” Shay dropped onto Ollie’s bed and laid back against his frilly pink pillows. “He touched my leg.” One of those girly swoons spewed from her mouth and she pulled Ollie’s blanket over her face.
Ollie jumped onto the mattress beside Shay then ripped the blanket from her clutch. “What are you babbling about?”
“Firestorm sat right next to me. We talked, and he laughed at my clothes.”
“Well, that part I believe.”
“No, for real.” Shay sat up, grabbed onto Ollie’s shoulders, and shook. She didn’t mean to manhandle him, but couldn’t help it. The excitement within her teetered its limits of a blow-out.
“They all walked right by me. Mr. Amazing, Electric-Luxie, and … Firestorm. Electric-Luxie’s cape touched me. I probably still smell like it.”
She held her arm under Ollie’s nose. “Smell me.”
“You’re serious.” Ollie pushed Shay’s arm away from his face. “Details, starting with a breakdown of outfits, hair, posture—”
“He said he wanted to see me again.” Shay laid back, gazing up at a poster on the ceiling of the man himself surrounded by bright red flames.
“Who?”
“Max.”
“Max?”
“Firestorm,” Shay said, pointing at the poster above her.
“Max.” The word left Ollie’s mouth in a whisper as he sank onto the mattress beside Shay. “How …? What …? You have to start at the very beginning, play-by-play.”
Max considered throwing himself out the plate-glass window behind him once Alexie walked into the boardroom. Her expression could strike fear in the heart of Antiserum himself. She was used to getting her way, even before a freak accident in a lightning storm granted her superpowers.
Alexie pushed past Simon, ripped off her cape, and tossed it onto the boardroom table. A low growl trickled from her mouth as she stared at Max. “What were you doing with that girl?”
“Nothing.” Max shut the door. There weren’t any employees on the upper floors of Ling Enterprises, but reporters lurked in every corner.
Max turned toward the long table, stopped short by the suspicious stares of his allies. “Shay is … we just talked. She’s funny.”
“So she took a shine to you?” Alexie grinned, much like a cartoon cat about to eat a caged canary.
“No, Lexie.” Max charged toward the boardroom table, heading straight to his seat, which forced Simon and Alexie to stagger back. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“We don’t harm the innocent,” Simon said to Alexie.
“That Evie Sinclair woman got on my last nerve.” Alexie slumped into her chair at the boardroom table in a huff. “We’re risking our lives to protect this city from the random freakos out there, and they hit us with a bill.”
Simon sat at the table’s head. “I’ve got more than enough money to cover the damages. If the city is in financial trouble, we should help. It’s what heroes would do.”
“I agree.” Alexie sagged lower in her seat, swaying her chair from side to side. “It just … would’ve been nice if they talked to us about it, in private, instead of taking us straight to court.”
Her boots thumped against the marble floor as she sat up straight. “Wait until our publicist gets wind of this.”
“Too late,” Simon said in a groan. “He already chewed my ear off.”
Max turned his chair toward the window. A million lights twinkled throughout the city. Shay was in one of those many buildings below Ling Enterprises. There was something odd about Shay. She emitted a particular vibe, one he hadn’t felt in a long time. He needed his laptop, to hack the web and find out everything there was to know about that strange girl.
“Max?”
“We’ll go to court tomorrow.” Max rose from his chair. “Present ourselves as the true heroes we are and leave our accusers looking like the villains.”
Shay rolled over in bed. For the past two hours, she’d tossed and turned despite the pull of exhaustion. She should be sound asleep, dreaming of a kiss from a superhero. Except, that wasn’t her. She didn’t pine over daredevil hotshots, or any guys for that matter.
The mechanics of the world seemed more attractive than dating. Science held Shay’s heart. If anything, she’d rather study Max than make out with him. At least, that was how she felt before she’d actually met the guy.
A tap, tap, tap echoed from across the room and Shay raised her head off the pillows. An orange glow shined through her black curtains, pulsing before it faded out.
Shay hopped out of bed and hurried to the window. Heat scorched her chest, burning stronger with every step. Before she even parted the drapes, she glimpsed Max’s face in her mind. Her heart pounded when he was near. It was something she equally loathed and loved.
Once Shay was certain she’d fully cleared the cheesy smile from her lips, she pushed the curtain aside and opened her window.
“You didn’t even look,” Max said in a whisper. “You just opened the window, blindly.”
“I saw your flame, and … you know.” She leaned on the windowsill and looked down at Max’s boots, which floated midair fifteen stories above Tenth Avenue. “There’s no fire escape at this window.”
“Right.”
A gust of cool air w
histled between the buildings. Max drifted closer to Shay. Their arms touched, and she jolted back from the window.
“Is it weird?” Max asked, hovering outside Shay’s open window. “That I’m here?”
“I don’t know.” Shay sat on the carpet and pulled her nightshirt over her bare knees. “It depends on why you’re here.”
Max rested his elbows on the window’s ledge. Shadows cloaked half his face and starlight shimmered on the other. The contrast of dark and light created an eerie beauty, which added depth to the man tabloids had branded as a simple-minded party guy.
“I never answered your question, from earlier,” he said, so low Shay could barely hear his words. “I begged Antiserum to tell me what he did with her, and he told me she’d been recycled.”
Shay wanted to reach through the window and hug Max. His words made about as much sense as a penny, but his expression twisted in grief. “I don’t under—”
“Everyone thinks Antiserum can poison with a glance, but it’s more than that. He can blast a person’s soul from their body. And somehow, he learned to harness them. He keeps jars of stolen souls in a secret vault somewhere, so he can absorb them later when he gets weak.”
These details had never made the pages of Superhero Weekly, nor the newsreels. Shay had watched every clip from the night her parents had died, from every corner of the internet, but she was only trying to catch a glimpse of their final moments.
“I don’t know what Antiserum does to people, but there’s no evidence a person even has a soul. Theologians have spent lifetimes contemplating the human soul’s existence. There’s no proof.”
“I have proof. I saw Antiserum take Jenna’s soul. He ripped it right from her body. It floated past me like a cloud of rainbow light. I tried to grab it, but it slipped through my fingers and into his hands.”
Max’s voice cracked and a glaze coated his far-off stare. “I could feel Jenna, so strong when I touched her soul. The vibrations of her essence seared into my chest, but it didn’t hurt. It soothed. I never felt anything like it again, until I saw you in that stairwell.”