My So-Called Superpowers

by Heather Nuhfer

Charlie and I sat behind a stack of chairs and listened as Dark Rooms started up. I was so nervous, it took all my concentration just to keep my stupidpowers at bay. Charlie kept looking at me. I think he could tell I was about to lose it.

  “Where do you think missing socks go?” he wondered aloud, trying to distract me from my nerves. “Do you think they’re stolen out of dryers by elves or something?”

  “Probably,” I said, trying to relax. I couldn’t. I smelled cigar smoke. Dad was nearby.

  “Are ya sure? I’m holding out for aliens.”

  I spotted my dad outside the window, just below the loft. He didn’t usually smoke there! If he looked up, he would easily see all the Ests! At least the music was loud enough that he shouldn’t hear them.

  “Veronica?” Blake whispered. He had crawled down from the loft.

  I gestured for him to follow me into the corner, away from Charlie. I leaned against a large power cord plugged into the wall to make room for both of us.

  “What’s up?” My voice went up about three octaves.

  “I just wanted to say thanks for this from all of us. I know it probably isn’t easy with your pops.” He glanced up, and I did, too.

  The Ests were waving their thanks at me from the rafters—well, all but one. I couldn’t help but notice that Jenny wasn’t joining in.

  I turned to Blake to say it was no big deal, but there was something wrong with my tongue. I swooshed it around in my mouth. Was it in a knot? A nod would have to suffice.

  “Seriously. Thanks,” Blake said as he touched my hand. He touched my hand.

  I backed up against the power cord behind me, grabbing it to steady myself, as Blake kept looking at me.

  I felt this intense electricity between us. It was magical. It was amazing. It was … It was an actual surge of electricity that went through my hand and into the power strip and fried the entire circuit breaker.

  Instantly, the lights all went out.

  BOOM!

  There went the transformer outside. Aaaaand all the power for all the homes within a five-block radius.

  A shrill cry filled the club. I knew exactly where it had come from: me.

  * * *

  They got the generators on pretty quickly. Too quickly, in fact. I only had half of my guests out the door by the time my dad, flashlight in hand, spotted them. Even worse was that all the commotion had gotten the club’s owner, Mr. G, out of his office, and he had also seen the giggling teen exodus.

  “Get back here!” Dad yelled after them as he ran to the door. I hadn’t had time to get out and was hiding behind the chairs.

  I heard Titan say, “Isn’t that our dentist?” as they fled into the night.

  “Stupid kids,” Dad muttered as he turned toward my hiding place—and his eyes widened as he saw me.

  “And what the heck do you think you’re doing, missy?” he called. “Outside! Now!”

  He had made me wait out there forever while he talked to his boss, which wasn’t a good sign. I leaned against the brick wall of the club and prayed for a quick, painless death.

  “So you’re saying you weren’t with them?” he scoffed when he finally came out. “And you can’t tell me who they are?”

  “Nope.”

  “This is not cool, Veronica.” He pointed at me. “Don’t lie.”

  Charlie wandered out of the broken side door and seemed to immediately regret this decision.

  “Who were those kids, Charlie?” Dad asked, still looking at me.

  I stared Charlie down. Do. Not. Tell.

  Dad was getting impatient. “Someone has to tell me or Veronica is grounded. Indefinitely.”

  Charlie offered them up instantly. “It was Derek and Jenny and Hun Su and Titan and Blake. Oh, and Kate and her brothers!”

  “That’s all I needed to know,” Dad growled. “Veronica, wait in the car. Go home, Charlie.” Dad put out his cigar and went back inside.

  “Charlie!” I screeched, smacking him on the shoulder.

  “You should have given them up, Veri,” he said. “I heard your dad talking to Mr. G. He wanted to fire your dad. If the cops had found them, the club would’ve been closed. He had to beg to keep his job.”

  “Why are you on his side?” I asked. Charlie was supposed to be my friend and support me. This wasn’t what I wanted. I knew it was a crappy situation for Dad, but in the end, no one had gotten hurt. Why couldn’t Charlie see that?

  “I better get in the car,” I said as I looked at the ground.

  “Veri?” Charlie called after me as I walked away.

  * * *

  Once I was in the car, I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut. The fewer words I said, the less incriminating evidence there would be.

  Dad broke the silence. “What’s with you lately?”

  Talk about broad questions.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “That was nothing? Tell me the truth.”

  “Dad, why did Mom go away?” I asked. If he wanted truth from me, I needed some from him. If Mom had stupidpowers and he knew it, I needed to know, too.

  “You want to talk about this now?”

  “Yeah.” I was scared enough of what his answer might be that a chunk of my hair was turning white. I could see the whiteness slowly glide down a few strands that hung over my shoulder in my reflection in the car window. Luckily Dad couldn’t see it from where he was sitting.

  “We didn’t agree on how to raise you,” he said matter-of-factly.

  That wasn’t scary. The color seeped back into my hair. “But, that’s pretty much like all parents, right?” I asked.

  “It is true for most parents, but it was different with us.” Dad took a deep breath before he went on. “You’re not a baby anymore, so I’m going to tell you something, but it’s also going to be the end of this discussion.”

  “But why?” My interest had been raised by about a zillion degrees.

  “Just agree that you are gonna leave it alone.”

  I didn’t want to agree, but a little info was better than none. “Okay, okay. Just tell me!”

  “I didn’t feel like you were safe with your mom around.” He blurted it out like the words hurt his tongue.

  Safe? That was really all the confirmation I needed, right? What could be less safe than randomly destroying things?

  Mom had superpowers.

  “But—” I started.

  “Shush,” Dad demanded. “I said that was all I wanted to say and that’s all I’m saying right now.”

  “One question—” I begged.

  “No.”

  “You can’t just say something like that and then shut it down. That’s not fair! You go on and on and on about trust all the time, but you don’t even trust me enough to tell me the truth?”

  “That’s not accurate.” He used his thumb to point backward toward the club. “You’re the one who is keeping secrets and acting sketchy.”

  Dad wasn’t wrong, but I was still irritated. I just wanted answers.

  He rolled his window down. I knew what that meant—he was getting hot because he was mad. “You were a jerk tonight, kid. I don’t owe you anything. In fact, for this stunt, your summer is going to be spent working reception at the dental office.”

  We said nothing else the rest of the drive. Did Dad know I had stupidpowers? It didn’t seem like he did, especially if he thought Mom was dangerous because of hers. Now I definitely couldn’t tell him the truth.

  Wouldn’t he think I was dangerous, too?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IN YOUR BEDROOM NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM

  Once safely in my bedroom, I flung myself onto my bed and screamed into my pillow, but that wasn’t enough for my stupidpowers. Suddenly I couldn’t hear my own scream anymore. I lifted my head and let out a yell, but no noise came out of my mouth.

  Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! a car alarm wailed outside, interrupting my screech-fest. Then another car alarm, and another, and another. I looked out the window and saw that every sing
le car on the entire street had its alarm going off. Whoa. A few minutes of frantic, confused activity later, and all the owners had stopped the noise and the flashing lights.

  Back to it, I screamed again. I felt the air whipping through my lungs and throat, but still no audible scream.

  “Bree! Breeeee! Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!” echoed from downstairs. The house alarm?

  An annoyed swear word from Dad assured me that it was just the security system going awry, not burglars. “Piece o’ crap,” he added as he typed in the secret code with a series of beeps.

  Okay, one more shot at this whole screaming thing. Bracing myself, I screamed using as much force as I could, but no sound came out. None. I kept going, trying harder and harder. Off went the car alarms again, then the house alarm joined in as the front window in my room cracked. Out of breath, I stopped my silent scream. Then I noticed Einstein, who was pawing at his ears, like he does when he hears a high-pitched whistle. Holy cow. He could hear my scream. I had gone supersonic.

  “Son of a—!”

  It was a noisy night, for sure. My octave-smashing range had not only tripped all the house and car alarms on the block, but it also had somehow set up a loop in our own security system that caused it to go off randomly all night. Which, in turn, made my dad go off in swearing binges all night. Super fun, guys.

  By morning I was exhausted in numerous ways. Obviously, the no-sleep thing was a component, but I also felt worn-out. And weary. And some other word that means emotionally tired. If that word exists, I was too tired to think of it. The dance was less than a week away, my mom was dangerous, my dad was furious, and I was a big old mess of confused emotions.

  While Charlie and I walked to school, I caught him up on my “dangerous” mom situation. I was relieved that it confused him as much as it confused me.

  Then I had a thought that I knew I’d go through with, even though my gut told me it was a bad idea.

  “Maybe I’ll take the bus out to Westchester?” I shrugged.

  “You can’t do that by yourself, Veri. Actually, I’m not certain you should go at all.”

  “I kinda have to, though, right?”

  After a moment, Charlie nodded. “I guess I would want to if I were you. But I’m coming with you.”

  “What about Ms. Watson? She’ll be all over us if we both miss school today.”

  “Ugh. Good point.”

  “I’ll go by myself. It’ll be all right,” I said even though I had no idea if it would.

  I was off to see my mom for the first time in eleven years. She had run away. She probably had superpowers. What could possibly go wrong?

  * * *

  The bus ride was long, but it gave me some time to catch up on the sleep I’d missed the night before.

  I had absolutely no idea what to do once I got to Westchester. I had brought one picture of my mom from the box back home. Showing it to the local barista didn’t help, so I asked a bank teller, a garbage man, and a dog walker. By midafternoon, I felt out of options. No one recognized her. Either she was a hermit or she didn’t actually live here. The bus would be coming back soon. This was a dumb idea from the start. I bought a soda and went to draw in the park near the bus station.

  I started to sketch a woman in the park who was reading a book. She had the reddest hair I had ever seen—even redder than Charlie’s—and a tired face. About three-quarters of the way through sketching, I found myself in the middle of a very familiar cowlick. I held the sketch away from my face. It couldn’t be. Here in black and white, I could see her. This woman looked like an older, box-hair-dye version of my mom!

  How could I be sure, though? What kind of weirdo goes up to a stranger and asks, “Hey, are you my mom?” I decided to explore a suspicion that had been lurking in my belly for quite some time. Opening my phone, I found the contact I had pilfered from Dad’s phone. My fingers shook as I pressed the Call button.

  Within seconds, Red was digging through her fringed handbag.

  “Hello?” she said. I could see her say the word at the same time I heard it through the phone.

  I said nothing, I didn’t move, I just watched her.

  “Who is this?” She waited a beat, then said, “Go to hell!” and hung up.

  I hadn’t even moved the phone from my ear yet when the feelings hit hard. Literally. My stupidpowers punched me in the gut, sending me flying backward. A shrub broke my fall, but this made me even more mad. I stood up and got ready to take another punch from my inner self.

  “Just kill me now!” I yelled at the air.

  “A little dramatic,” a familiar voice said behind me.

  Something in me still wasn’t working right, so when I turned to see Betsy, my brain didn’t seem to process it with the usual amount of fear.

  I managed to squeak out, “What are you doing here?”

  “The plan was to catch even more of your alien mutant stuff so I can ruin your life,” she told me.

  “Oh,” I said, trying to wrap my mind around everything that had just happened.

  “You didn’t do anything until just now, so it was kinda a waste of time. I got much better shots of all your weirdness back home.” She scrolled through pictures on her camera before she popped out its memory card and put it in her pocket. “It’s all on that card, and don’t you forget it,” she said.

  Disturbed, I looked back to see if the woman with my hair was still sitting aways off in the park. She was.

  “Can you stay focused, please?” Betsy said. “I was talking to you. I’m sure finding your mom and all that was important, but not to me.”

  “How’d you know that was my mom?”

  “You both have that stupid hair flip.”

  “Hmm.” Numbness had set in and I couldn’t seem to figure out what emotion I should be having. I should have been scared because Betsy was there, but she hadn’t tried to kill me yet. I should have been raging at my mom still. I should have been crying because that was probably what was expected of a girl whose long-lost mom had just told her to “go to hell,” but there wasn’t anything there. It was almost as if my stupidpower outburst had wiped me out.

  I decided to ask Betsy something I had been wondering about. “Hey, Betsy? Can I ask you a question?”

  “I think you probably will even if I say no,” she said.

  “So, you’ve seen my…”

  “Freakishness?”

  “You’ve seen what I can do.”

  “And? Wasn’t there supposed to be a question in there?” she said, and sighed.

  “You don’t seem fazed or like you have safety concerns,” I said. “You even helped us in the library, with the microfiche machine. That’s how I figured out I should come here.”

  Betsy shrugged. “This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in our crap hometown. It’s kind of like real-life performance art,” she added. “And that still wasn’t a question.”

  For some inexplicable reason, her answer made me feel better. Could Betsy possibly not be 100 percent pure evil?

  “Okay. Actual question: Do you think my mom looks like she has the same … issues I do?” I stared at a dandelion that was arching toward the sun.

  “Hard to tell from here,” Betsy said. “Why didn’t you go talk to her? Seems stupid to come all this way and do nothing.”

  “I called her.”

  “Yeah, and look where that got ya.” She snorted as she plucked a twig from my hair. “Want me to do it?”

  “No!” Spoke too soon: Betsy’s evil self had returned.

  “Oooh, but now I really think I should,” Betsy said.

  “Betsy, please!”

  But it was too late, Betsy was skipping merrily toward my mom. She looked back at me and smiled.

  I dove behind the tree and watched. Yes, I know I could’ve just run up there with Betsy, but I didn’t. It was pathetic. Anyway, they were too far away for me to hear what was going on, but I could see the Oscar-worthy performance Betsy was attempting to give. At least, I hoped
Betsy was giving a performance; it would be much, much worse if she was telling my mom the truth.

  Betsy was giving her a big, fake smile, of course, and her hands were whipping through the air like she was conducting a symphony. My mom’s reaction was not so grand. She had one eyebrow raised—an expression that looked eerily familiar to me—and a scowl. She said a few words and waved her arm at Betsy, trying to get her to leave. Betsy persisted and gestured toward me! Mom held her hand above her eyes, trying to see me, but I couldn’t tell if she succeeded. Betsy stepped toward Mom, who quickly stood up and said something that caused Betsy to cover her mouth in complete shock. Then Betsy slowly backed away from her.

  I was on the verge of a heart attack by the time Betsy finally made it back to me.

  “What happened?!” I blurted out as I pulled Betsy behind the tree. “Did she threaten you? Did you tell her I was here? Did she zap you or something? SPEAK!” My hands were shaking and I could feel my eyes bugging out of their sockets.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Betsy put her hands up defensively. “Don’t blow a fuse or, you know, blow us up!”

  She had a good point. I didn’t want my superpowers to go off again. I tried to take it down a notch.

  “I can tell you this,” Betsy said. “Your mom is not human.”

  “What?!” I grabbed her wrist.

  With the most serious expression I had ever seen, Betsy said, “It’s true. I’m sorry. Your mom can’t be human. She wouldn’t buy any Girl Scout cookies.”

  She snorted and whipped her arm away from me.

  I knew if I said anything I would start to cry, so I didn’t. Luckily, the bus arrived at that moment.

  After one glance back at my mom—who was staring off into the distance—I got on board along with Betsy.

  Betsy sat behind me and gave my seat a good kick. “Listen,” she said, “I pretended to be selling cookies to try to get her name and address. She definitely is your mom.”

  I turned around and looked at her.

  “Oh, geez. Don’t frickin’ cry about it.” She sighed. “But she also doesn’t have an address. She’s ‘just visiting.’”

  “Just visiting?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said before she went all screamy on me. That lady could really use a cookie.” There was a long pause before Betsy added, “Actually, I think your mom and my mom would hit it off.”