“Stop punching me, please.” I ask, as he struggles to hit me again with his left arm.
I lower us to the black and white tiled lobby and set him down in front of an officer.
“There you go.” I say, thrusting the man forwards.
Each bullet hit is radiating pain through me like I’ve never experienced before. I’m struggling for breath. Two officers appear. They handcuff him and drag him away. The officer looks at me and Mitchell, like he doesn’t know what to do. I break the ice first.
“These two were also involved in trying to rob the bank.” I say. Mitchell pushes them forward.
“It was a stupid idea. He made us do it.” One of the men whines, pointing to the large man being hauled away.
The officer signals some others to come over.
“Get ‘em out of here.” He says and the two men are led outside.
“Who are you?” The stern looking officer asks us.
Well, here goes nothing. I try to take a deep breath, but it’s difficult. My ribs hurt like hell.
“I’m Cosmic Girl.” I blurt out, while trying to hide the pain in my voice.
Mitchell takes a step closer towards me and faces the officer, who takes a step back and looks up at Mitchell, before clearing his throat and stepping forward again.
“And you?” He asks, as he removes a notepad and pencil from his shirt pocket.
“I’m Crash.” Mitchell’s deep muffled voice booms from his motorcycle helmet.
I touch Mitchell’s arm gently.
“Glad we could help.” I say and turn to leave.
“Hey, wait. I need to take your statement.” The officer calls after us.
“Ask them.” I say and point to the group of customers who are watching us with open mouths. “They saw everything.”
Once outside, there’s a huge crowd gathering in the street. Reporters and news vans have already arrived on the scene. People take our photos as men and women with microphones push through the crowd to get to us. The pain is getting worse.
I‘m scared that I might black out at any moment. Perfect. My first public appearance and I’m gonna pass out. I smile for the cameras, although it’s probably more like a grimace, then accelerate upwards and leave the excited crowd behind me. I see Mitchell jump a couple of hundred feet over the crowd. He lands in the next street, then becomes a blur as he runs through the streets below. I’m beginning to see white spots in front of my eyes. I make it a few blocks before I descend rapidly. I fall from the sky, crashing into an air duct on the roof of some building. I lie down as the white spots increase and my vision begins to blur. I vaguely hear a loud thump, then Mitchell is here, crouching over me.
“Help.” I mumble, then the world fades to black.
Seventeen
When I open my eyes next, it’s dark, and I’m no longer outside. Where am I? I feel something soft beneath me. Something creaks nearby. I look down and see that I’m lying on a bed, in a fairly small room. The curtains are closed and the light is off. A small sliver of light shines underneath the door, illuminating a small patch of carpet, which looks red.
My body is aching, but the pain has stopped. The bed creaks as I try to sit up. The light comes on. Mitchell is here. He crouches down by the bed. He’s wearing his blue jeans and black t-shirt now.
“How are you feeling?” He asks as he checks the wound on my arm.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” I moan and rub my tummy. I notice that I’m still wearing my costume. It’s riddled with bullet holes now.
“Oh, man!” I grumble as I examine my ruined purple catsuit.
I stand up, and find a mirror near his small desk and check the damage.
“I think it’s cool. It makes you look indestructible.” Mitchell says as he stands behind me.
“Only I’m not, am I?” I grumble over my shoulder at him.
“At least they didn’t break your skin.” Mitchell says.
“Hurt like hell, though.” I say and rub my aching ribs. “Did you get shot?” I ask.
He looks down at his feet. “No.” He says after a few seconds.
“I’d better get changed. Your parents might barge in.” I say.
Mitchell points to my Chinese lucky cat backpack, which is lying on the floor near the bed. I walk over and grab my backpack.
“What time is it?” I ask as I open and grab my normal clothes.
“It’s after ten.”
“How long have I been out?”
“About four hours. You looked like you’d been stung by bees. You look much better.”
“Turn around.” I ask.
When he turns, I quickly change back into my clothes. I put my damaged costume in my backpack, then close it and sling it over my shoulders.
“I’d better go.” I say as I turn towards his bedroom door.
Then it hits me. I’m in Mitchell’s bedroom. I haven’t been here before. I gaze about the room. I’ve seen worse.
At least it doesn’t smell. The walls are covered with posters of Chicago Bulls players, so much so, that I can’t really see any wallpaper.
A signed red jersey hangs near his bed with the number 1 emblazoned on it in black. Great, the first time I’m in his bedroom and he has to play nursemaid.
“I’ll walk you home.” Mitchell says and grabs his brown leather jacket.
Once outside, I breathe in the night air and stretch. Mitchell closes the door behind us. I begin to walk slowly down the path toward the sidewalk.
“Well, that was a bit of an adventure?” He says and smiles down at me.
“Keep your adventures. They hurt too much.” I reply and rub my left arm.
“Just got to be more careful, that’s all.” He says.
“You can’t dodge bullets in a hallway.” I fire back.
“Maybe with some practice, you can.”
“Practice? How do you practice being shot at?”
“We could use small stones.”
I think about it and shrug. “Where can we practice?”
He’s quiet for a while as we walk back towards my neighborhood.
“We’ll need somewhere isolated. Far away from here.” He says quietly, as we pass a couple walking in the opposite direction.
“That can be your homework, then.” I suggest and chuckle as he frowns at me.
“Okay. Challenge accepted.” He replies. “I’ll find us somewhere to practice.”
“You do that.” I say as we cross the street.
We walk the three blocks leisurely, then I begin to think about my cover story as I see my house at the top of the street.
“Where the hell have you been?” Dad says as soon as I’m through the door.
“I’ve been recuperating at Mitchell’s.” I grumble.
I slink into the living room and sit down.
“Recuperating? From what?” Dad asks as he enters the living room after me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Mitchell calls out from the hall.
“Yeah. Thanks for everything Mitch.” I call out.
I hear the door close, while Dad heads towards the hall, then stops and looks back at me.
“What happened?” He asks.
“I got jumped on by a gang.” I lie. Well, technically it was a gang.
“WHAT?”
“I’m okay, Dad. Just a little bruised. Mitch helped me out.”
“Well. That’s good to know. Who did it?”
“I don’t know, Dad. Never saw them before.”
“Have you told the police yet?”
“I’m tired and hungry, Dad.” I moan and give him my puppy-dog-eyes.
“Right. Well, come on. I’ll make you something.”
I follow him into the kitchen and sit at the oak table, as he busies himself.
He makes me some scrambled eggs on toasted rye, with some maple syrup. I have a glass of milk afterwards, then I stagger up to bed. Dad tucks me in and my eyes are closed in minutes.
The next day in school
is filled with talk of our exploits. We’re on all of the news channels and in all of the newspapers. Everyone’s talking about us at lunch.
I giggle as I hear other kids talking excitedly about Cosmic Girl. Who she might be and where she comes from. There are lots of theories.
“She’s a babe from Krypton.” One kid says to his friend in front of me, while in the line at the food counter.
“Krypton is fictional, dweeb. This is for real.” His friend replies and shakes his head at his younger friend.
“Okay, then where did she come from? Did you see her eyes? They were glowing.” The younger kid replies.
“Maybe she’s from some other dimension. You know, she came through a black hole or something.”
“Maybe.”
I chuckle as I carry my tray to our table in the corner by the window.
“Hey, guys.” I say as I sat down.
“How are you feeling?” Beth asks.
“Aw, man. Does everyone know?” I grumble.
“Sorry.” Mitchell smiles apologetically at me.
“It’s nothing. I heal pretty quick.” I show them my arm.
There are just a few small red marks now. “See?”
“Did it hurt?” Paul asks.
“Yeah, like being hit with a hammer.” I say and take a bite of my tuna-fish sandwich.
“Ouch.” Paul mutters and nudges Stuart who is sitting next to him. “See, I told you. We need to practice more.”
“Yeah, but where? I can’t exactly blast things in my back yard.” Stuart replies.
“Have you found anywhere yet?” I ask Mitchell.
“Give me a chance.” He laughs and rolls his eyes.
“Found what?” Beth asks.
Her eyes glaze over for a second, then she nods.
“Oh, you’re looking for somewhere to practice.” Beth says.
“Hey, ask permission before reading my mind. It’s rude.” Mitchell complains.
“Sorry, can’t help it.” Beth replies sullenly.
“Wherever it is, it has to be away from prying eyes.” Stuart says.
“And far enough away, so that we’re not overheard.” Paul adds.
“It’ll have to be big, so we can practice our speed.” Mitchell says.
“An island would be ideal. You know, like in Jurassic Park.” Paul says. He hums the movie’s tune as he stares out of the large window at the trees outside.
“An island, huh?” Mitchell murmurs to himself, then takes a bite of his turkey sub.
“It’s Thursday, guys. Are we still going to Vegas on Saturday?” Stuart asks.
We all look at each other. They all seem to be waiting for me.
I nod.
“We just need to be more careful. Try not to get shot.” I said.
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s easy when you piss off the mafia.” Paul says, then he finishes his lemonade and belches loudly.
“Eww.” Beth groans next to him.
“We work as a team and we try to be smart about it. No diving in headfirst.” Mitchell says.
I can almost feel his eyes on me when he says the last part. I take another bite of my sandwich. The bell goes and I finish my sandwich and head to my next class.
Jessica is beaming when I get home after school. She pulls me into the living room, pointing at the flat screen television.
“You’re famous!” She gushes, as I look at what she’s talking about.
On the television is CNN. A reporter is talking to some people in New York City.
“She’s so cool. Did you see her costume?” One man asks his friend next to him.
It looks like they‘re outside the bank we helped yesterday. His friend is visibly geeking out at it all.
“Yeah, but did you see the bullet holes? She’s bulletproof, dude. Oh man, and her eyes? The way they glowed blue like that. A real life superhero. Friggin awesome!” His friend gushes and there are almost tears in his eyes.
“As you can see, the supposed hoax previously reported is in fact true. We have footage of the costumed heroes as they emerge from the bank yesterday. The police have made a statement regarding the incident. They state that the girl in purple referred to herself as Cosmic Girl. The man in the black and red motorcycle outfit referred to himself as Crash. Police are still interviewing witnesses, so we should have more information as soon as they release any further statements. This is Rosalie Thompson, reporting for CNN, from Manhattan.”
“So, who is Cosmic Girl? And who is this mysterious Crash? If you have seen these individuals, please contact us. We’d love to hear from you.” The anchorwoman says, then I switch the television off.
“People are excited.” Jessica chuckles.
“I can tell.” I murmur and yawn.
“Who’s Crash?” Jessica asks.
“Oh, that’s Mitchell.”
“Really? Wow. He looks…ummm…impressive.”
I look at her sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just saying he looks hot, that’s all.” Jessica says. “How’d you get to New York, anyway?”
“Flew of course.” I say and flop down into one of the chairs. “I need help in repairing my costume.”
“The bullet holes, right.” Then she stops, does a double-take and stares at me. “You’re bulletproof?” She asks with wide eyes.
I shrug. “Sort of. Let’s say, I’m 80% bulletproof.”
Jessica grins and hops up and down in excitement.
“You’re as bad as that guy on the news.” I say and chuckle.
“Come on, Britney. This is friggin cool. My super sister.” Jessica laughs and pats me on the shoulder.
“Ouch.” I wince.
“Oh. You’re hurt?” Jessica asks and lowers the fabric over my right shoulder. “That looks sore.”
I rub my shoulder and smile up at her.
“I’ll live. So, the suit. Can you help?”
“Sure. Where is it?”
I get up and head upstairs. Jessica follows me into my room. I open my closet and show her my purple glittery costume. Jessica bursts out laughing and grabs it off the hanger.
“Britney!” Jessica says and quickly closes my bedroom door. “You need to find a better hiding place.”
“Sorry. I don’t have a Batcave.” I grumble as I sit on my bed.
“I know.” Jessica says.
She heads over to my old toy chest, which I now put my comic books in.
“You can hide it in here. Just put some comics on top to hide it. Dad doesn’t look in here.”
“Whatever.” I say. I lie back on the bed and close my eyes.
“Hey, wake up sleepyhead.” A voice calls out.
I open my eyes and blink.
“Huh?” I murmur.
“It’s finished.”
I rub my eyes and sit up. Jessica stands near my closet with my costume. I blink and try to give it my attention.
“Oh. I hadn’t thought about doing that.” I say as I look at Jessica’s handy work.
She’s sewn small white stars on to the suit to cover the bullet holes, plus a whole lot more.
“I had to add quite a few stars. Otherwise it would’ve looked odd.” Jessica says and hands it to me. “What do you think?”
“I love it. It makes perfect sense, too.”
“That’s what I thought. You’re Cosmic Girl. So why not have stars?”
Some stars are very small, while others are a couple of inches in diameter.
“Thanks, sis.” I say and give her a hug.
“Why are you so tired?” She asks, as I stifle another yawn.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the healing process.” I shrug and open my comic book chest and put my costume inside.
I cover it with a few issues of Superman, JLA and Batman, then close the chest. I stretch up with my arms until they crack.
Jessica and I eat dinner quietly while we wait for Dad to come home. The problem with Dad being a fire-fighter, is the hours. He can be out of the house a
ll day sometimes. He eventually came home at 8 p.m. But I’m so tired, I just kiss him goodnight and go straight to bed.
It takes a couple of days for my wounds to heal completely and for the fatigue to leave me. Friday night finds me lying on my bed doing some English homework, when my cell phone rings.
“Hi, Beth.” I answer when I see her number.
“Hey, Britney. Just checking with you when to meet tomorrow?”
“We’ll meet after lunch near Jefferson Park, about 1 p.m.”
“How are we all getting to Vegas?”
“Mitchell has that covered.”
Cosmic Girl Rising Up Page 16