by Gwenda Bond
The ball soared toward our section of the stands, moving fast and—wait, it was coming right for us! For me!
I ducked, put my hands in front of my face, and waited for the impact.
When the people in the stands around us burst into applause, I lowered them. To find Clark clutching the ball in his hand, and extending it to me. “For you,” he said, with the best smile that had ever existed.
He was officially cuter than Nellie Bly.
The people had stopped clapping, but still went “awwww” when I accepted it and held it to my heart, beaming. “Cute kids,” the man behind us said to Martha and Jonathan. Then he added, “A pair of star-cross’d lovers, if ever I’ve seen one. Sorry, I have a thing for Shakespeare.”
I fell back into my seat. Clark eased back into his. I could guess that Clark was as mortified as I was, but I still had the baseball he’d saved me from.
Now it was my turn to save him.
“Should I bite my thumb at thee, sir?” I asked the man. “‘Star-cross’d’ is from Romeo and Juliet, right? Not my favorite Shakespeare—and star-crossed means they’re doomed.” Clark was looking at me with an awestruck expression. “But it is better than Macbeth. Clark can’t stand Macbeth.”
“Is that so?” the man replied.
“No heroes,” Clark explained.
“You’re right about the reference, I just meant you make a cute couple,” the Shakespeare fan said. “A-plus to both of you.”
I stashed the ball—my new most-prized possession—in my bag, and then offered Clark my hand again. He took it without hesitation.
“You know, they call baseball the thinking man’s sport,” I said to him, when everyone else had returned to the business of watching the last of the game.
“Did you google ‘quotes about baseball,’ Lois Lane?” he asked.
“As the great Yogi Berra once said, ‘Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical,’” I said, instead of answering directly. “I was afraid there might be a lull. But the Shakespeare I just have a good memory for.”
“Lucky me,” he said.
The Monarchs did win, but I was sad the game was over. “You’re sure we shouldn’t bring you home?” Jonathan asked when we reached the outside of the park.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s not far.”
“I’ll call your mother tomorrow,” Martha said.
Like I’d forget.
“Can we have one quick minute?” Clark asked them. They both nodded.
He led me a few feet away. Nervousness suddenly descended between us again.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked.
“I love watching the sports ball, very exciting,” I said. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?” he asked. “After school? I wondered if I could come by the Scoop.”
“We might have a lead to chase down, but I’ll text you. We’ll make a plan.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
“Sure does,” I said.
We looked at each other. Then we both leaned in and…
I smacked my forehead right into his glasses, practically knocking them off his face. When I pulled back, my lips collided with his nose.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” I scrambled to try and straighten his glasses at the same time he did, just as we both broke up with laughter.
It was too awkward to try the kiss again—especially with his parents standing nearby. I settled for taking off his cap and returning it to his head.
He brushed my cheek with his hand. “See you tomorrow?”
“Definitely,” I said. “See you. With eyes that I have. And since I didn’t break your glasses, you’ll be able to see me, even.”
“Bye, Lo.” He raised his hand.
“Bye,” I said, and turned to leave. I refused to check and see if Martha and Jonathan were laughing at the most awkward real-life attempt at a kiss ever. That would be just my luck.
But then, right this second, my luck felt remarkably good for a change.
CHAPTER 16
I was still walking on cloud nine, practically floating, when I reached the last block before home. Even the prospect of telling my mom that the mother of a boy I liked who lived in another state would be calling her so they could come for dinner didn’t dent my bubble of happiness.
Even the way I’d fumbled our kiss didn’t. Because there was almost a kiss. Which meant there would be a kiss at some point. Tomorrow?
Meeting each other in person did not seem to have ruined everything. I checked to make sure no one was around and did a little un-me-like whirl on the sidewalk. And when I completed my turn, two people appeared who burst my bubble entirely.
The boy with the silver wings landed in front of me, carrying the brown-haired girl, Reya, the one with the silvery strong hands.
I slipped my phone out of my pocket in case I needed to call for help, then waited to see what their move would be.
“Hey guys, out for a stroll?” I asked. Not my best, but I’d been distracted. I should’ve known better than to be walking around all wrapped up in my thoughts and not paying attention. “Come to confess all and ask for my help?”
The boy set Reya on the sidewalk. He didn’t say anything, but she stretched her silver armored hands out in a way that could only be described as menacing.
“I have no problem with you,” I said, talking fast. “I know the Contessa and Donovan did this to you. What I don’t know is why, and how to help you get away from them. I want to bring them down, for good.”
Reya stalked closer, and my brain told me to run. But my instincts said otherwise, so I stood my ground. I looked past her, and asked the boy, “What’s your name?” I looked back at her. “I know you’re Reya.”
“He’s Jamie,” she said. “We’re here because you made Todd all worried and sad again. How did you know my name?”
Todd must have some hidden charms for her to feel so loyal to him.
“Mr. Jeffrey said you two are close, that he’s like your brother.” She’d stopped a couple of feet away. I dug in my bag for the sketch and held it up. “You’re a talented artist.”
Seeing the sketch hit her like a blow. She even took a step back. Then she moved forward and snatched it from my hand. “I shouldn’t have drawn that. It was stupid, I was stupid. But I’m not anymore—and I can’t draw anymore anyway.” Her fingers flexed and the paper tore. “We don’t need your help.” But when she stopped talking, she didn’t move.
She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure what to do next. Her eyes went to the crumpled drawing and I saw sadness there too.
“Are you sure about that?” I asked, as gently as I could.
The boy behind her—Jamie—was trying to mind his own business, gazing off into the sky. I wondered what his deal was.
“Are both of you sure you don’t need help?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, smiling at me. “Never better. No tortured soul here. I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“Neither do we,” Reya said. “Todd can’t ever go back home, which means we don’t have homes anymore.” She tilted her head closer to me and lowered her voice for the next part. “But Lois Lane…”
I worried it might be a trap, but I leaned in to hear what she had to say.
“The people who saved us, they want you too,” she told me. “If you don’t want to be part of this… or to need help yourself, then I’d stay far, far away. Get out of town. Hope they forget about you.” She paused. “Or just come with us. Maybe we can be friends.”
So there was good in Reya. She wouldn’t be warning me otherwise, and her worry for Todd was plain. Leaving home because a friend couldn’t go back was a serious commitment. And Jamie saying he had nowhere else to go fit to. I didn’t know about the other girl, Sunny,
but I could guess she was in the same boat.
Donovan and the Contessa had given the four of them something like a home. Of course they wouldn’t think they needed help. To them, it must seem like help had already arrived.
“I would like to be your friend,” I said. “It may feel like things are good for you now, that you’re safe, but it won’t last. They’re using you.”
She didn’t make a move to leave, so I waited. I had a feeling she might say something more.
“I think we could have been friends, if we’d met before.” She didn’t bother denying my points. “They won’t give up on getting you. You’re part of their plan.”
I shrugged. “And I won’t give up on taking them down. That’s my plan. I won’t give up on helping you guys either. Remember that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “They’re getting tired of waiting. But they want you to come to them. They will make us force you to, eventually.”
I smiled, though I didn’t feel even a hint of happiness about this situation. “Then they don’t know me very well. I’m not great at doing what I’m told.”
“They understand you better than you think,” she said, and turned on her heel. She spoke to me, her head crooked over her shoulder. “The next time we meet, we won’t be friends. At least not yet.”
Jamie held out his arms and she jumped into them. His small silver wings beat, once, twice, and they were far overhead.
My hands were shaking. Whatever the bad guys had planned, it was definitely aimed at me. It was definitely coming soon.
And I still didn’t know how to stop it.
*
I rushed the rest of the way home, half-expecting speedy Todd to show up, or maybe even Donovan himself. He and the lady with the high heels and the title, who liked “pet projects,” they wanted me to come to them.
Pretending I wasn’t tempted to march straight there wouldn’t do any good, but I recognized there was something else going on here. I’d be playing right into their hands. I had to figure out what they wanted me for first. Which wouldn’t be easy to do, given that I’d held back the full contents of the folder from Devin, James, and Maddy. Here was hoping Devin had turned up something more useful this afternoon.
I let myself inside our front door and relaxed against it with a breath. Only then did I realize the lights were on and I wasn’t alone in the living room.
Mom had a cup of tea and was curled up with a book on the couch. “Sports that scary?” she asked, a hint of legitimate concern in her voice.
Lucy was on the other end of the couch with Mom’s tablet, and she didn’t look up from whatever cockpit swiping game she had underway.
“There were some, uh, weird people up the street,” I said. “Spooked me a little.”
I can’t draw anymore anyway, Reya had said. The Contessa and Donovan had plucked that girl out of a homeless shelter with her friend Todd, who was practically her brother, and taken away the talent she had. They’d made her strong, but they seemed to have taken away most of her strength.
She wasn’t fighting them, that much was certain. But she had come to see me—because I’d upset Todd.
She was right. We probably would’ve been friends under other circumstances.
“Are they still there?” Mom set down her tea and got up. “Should we call the police?”
I eased away from the door. “This is Metropolis, Mom. I don’t think ‘weird people’ raise an eyebrow for the cops.”
“Fair point.” She touched my shoulder. “Did you have a good time?”
I needed to get upstairs and fill the others in on what had happened, or at least as much of it as I dared to. But… I might as well get this over with.
“So, you know when I said before that I was meeting a friend at the game?” I studied my boots, then chanced a glance at her.
Mom’s expression had grown measured. “Yes.”
“That was true, but it was a long-distance friend—remember, the guy who called on the phone that one time because we play the game together?”
“The one who scared your dad and me half to death, you mean?”
“Um, yes,” I said. “That was entirely my fault. You’ll like him. I promise. He’s nice, dependable, smart.” My extolling his virtues did not seem to be softening her up. “Anyway, he and his parents are visiting Metropolis. His mom and dad were there the whole time at the baseball game, so don’t freak out or anything. They run a farm. They’re so nice. And his mom, um, she’d like to meet you, and so she may call you tomorrow. I think they want to go to dinner. Or have dinner. We don’t have to, obviously—”
“Lois.”
One little name that could communicate so much, depending upon who was saying it and in what tone. I knew I should have stopped talking before I did. I stood and awaited her verdict.
It hadn’t really crossed my mind that she might protest not just this, but everything about the situation. Mom could forbid me from seeing Clark again while he was here in town.
If she wanted to keep me from sneaking out, she would. She could be as tough as Dad, and even tougher when she perceived a threat to one of her daughters.
Never underestimate a woman. I knew it to be true.
Lucy, meanwhile, was gaping at us. She tossed her tablet aside and shouted, “You do have a boyfriend!” And then she started to cackle.
I stuck my tongue out at her. Which was perhaps not mature but seemed a fitting response.
Mom’s lips ticked up on one side, a sign she was battling a laugh too. She controlled it and stayed wary.
“Mom,” I pleaded, “you don’t need to lose it over this. You’ll like them. He’s a really good guy.”
“I don’t like that you lied to me,” she said. “Is this why you’ve been acting weird? Worrying me?”
“I didn’t exactly lie.” But I nodded. Was I helping myself here?
“Avoided the full truth, then,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I was nervous and… I’m sorry.”
She sighed. “I knew you were nervous about something. Lois, you went up and down the stairs ten times in an hour today. I’ll attempt to keep an open mind.” She pursed her lips. “Your dad’s not going to love missing this. The first boy you bring home.”
The one bright spot in this conversation. “Do you have to tell him? Can’t we just… wait?”
“I do have to tell him,” she said. “It’s part of the marriage deal, and if you really like this boy, he’s going to find out sooner or later. But I’ll hold off until after I talk to the boy’s mother. She sounds sensible at least.”
“She is.” Were we going to regret introducing Martha and Ella? Probably for the rest of our days.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Clark Kent.” I inadvertently broke into a grin as I said it.
She shook her head at me.
I gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I… I don’t always think so rationally about this stuff. I should’ve told you.”
And then… I lingered. This situation called for delicacy. If she wanted me to tell her about him, I’d have to. I eyed the stairs, but wondered if I should take a seat on the couch to hang out with them.
“Did you guys go to the movies?” I asked, testing.
“We did,” Mom said. “Not that you care. I’ll get my first impression of this Clark Kent from meeting him. Now go. I can tell you’re dying to get upstairs for some reason.”
“Scoop business! Good night!” I said, and I raced up the steps.
I heard Lucy make kissing noises and the two of them laughing behind me. I barely cared—as long as they didn’t do that when the Kents were around.
The Kents. I still didn’t fully understand the extreme secrecy he’d insisted on all this time, but he said his parents were protective. I’d once
thought maybe they were spies or something, the entire reason for the need for privacy, but I was long since convinced they were exactly what he said: farmers.
Part of me wanted to press for him to tell me everything. But I knew he couldn’t. And I was certain enough that it had something to do with the flying man and what Clark knew about him. I knew, though, that Martha would not be happy if he told me anything more at this point, especially after they brought him to Metropolis. I could respect that.
For now.
I locked my door, went straight to my laptop, and pulled up my email. This was too much for a text. I typed up an explanation of the encounter I’d had on my way home (only being a little fuzzy on the bad-guys-being-obsessed-with-me part) and suggested we meet at school the next morning to share any new intel. Immediately, a thread of responses started.
Devin was first: I have something.
Me: Whew.
And then Maddy: I’ll reserve our room.
James chimed in: Maddy, you need a ride tomorrow? I don’t like the idea of you walking alone, with all this going on.
I wanted to say, No offer to drive me, then? But I didn’t.
Maddy shot back: Thanks, see you—7:30?
I think we’re running out of time before they start whatever their endgame is, I typed. See you in the morning.
I hated that we were still so in the dark. What good was knowing their names if we weren’t sure what they were created to do? Why had the armored test subjects seemed to have become ghosts, lost with no one worried about them? What purpose could a group of runaway teens augmented with that silvery metal serve in the larger scheme of things? Why let them be seen in public? Why would their leaders want me so specifically?
I didn’t like any of it.
Clark and I hadn’t been using the secure chat app on my laptop much, so I was surprised when it pinged with a notification. I guessed I’d forgotten to log out the last time we did.
SmallvilleGuy: I can’t seem to stop thinking about the game.
SmallvilleGuy: By which I mean you.