“Amelia!”

  “Motherfucker!” I bolted upright, panting. My gaze flicked around the classroom, face flushing as people chuckled. I ran a hand over my buzzed hair, eyeing the teacher.

  “I understand precalculus isn’t exciting, but do try and stay awake,” he said sarcastically.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, lowering my head.

  I did my best to ignore the whispers of my classmates, doing what I could to focus on the textbook in front of me. The formulas were insane, with more letters than numbers anywhere. I thought this was supposed to be a math class, but here I was learning another language. Well not learning, struggling to stay awake through.

  It was my own fault, to be fair. I hadn’t gotten over to Amy’s until after midnight, and hadn’t gotten to bed until nearly two; her phone was still on silent from being out at the hospital. I’d forgiven her, of course, but now I was flagging and the day wasn’t half over. The sole bright spot was I had nowhere to be after school, so I was just going to head to Amy’s and get some much needed sleep.

  Hopefully she wouldn’t mind. She’d been really quiet this morning, barely saying a word to me before we headed to our separate classes. Probably a little pissed about my late night, in retrospect. She’d woken up to a bunch of missed calls, then came down to find me half asleep sitting in the lobby. Must have worried her like crazy, not to mention making her get up at an ungodly hour.

  I’d have to figure out a way to make it up to her. Flowers? Too cliché, I didn’t even know what kind she liked, or if she did at all really. Same issue with jewelry, I’d never seen her wear any. Maybe we could go out to a fancy restaurant, where most regular people would have to mortgage their house to afford a seat and I couldn’t pronounce half the dishes.

  I sighed and began packing up my bag as the lunch bell rang. I’d have to start just by apologizing when we sat down for lunch. After that I could figure out some sweeping gesture that would let her forgive me. I zipped my bag shut and filed out of the classroom, slowly threading through throngs of students to get to the cafeteria. Finally I got through, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket, and joined Amy at our usual table.

  “Hey Amy,” I said, giving her a quick side hug. “How was class?”

  “Fine,” she mumbled, poking at something resembling a salad and making me wince. Yeah, I needed to apologize.

  “Um, look, I’m really sorry about last night,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to come over so late, I just got distracted and lost track of time. I know I make things hard, and I’m sorry for that.” She gave me a look of confusion.

  “Why are you apologizing?” Amy asked shakily. “I— I knew you were coming over and fell asleep, I made you wait out there for...god, how fucking long?”

  “Not that long,” I hedged. It had barely been more than an hour, I was sure. “And it’s fine, I was way later than I should have been, it’s not your fault.”

  “It’s…” She trailed off, shoulders slumping. “I should have stayed up.”

  “I don’t blame you,” I said, stifling a yawn. “So...halfsies?”

  “Huh?”

  “Halfsies,” I repeated. “Since we both feel like we fucked up, let’s say we both did. Even split, fifty-fifty, no hard feelings.”

  “But I left you out there for hours,” Amy hissed.

  “And I made you freak out,” I replied. “Not to mention being the one who was insanely late and starting it. But I’m okay, a little tired but okay. I don’t know if you are, I hope you are, but if so then like..” I shrugged. I couldn’t get into it, but I knew that I really was to blame for all this. If this helped her feel better than pinning it all on me...okay.

  “Fine,” she said after a minute. “I… I am sorry about it.”

  “Forgiven,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I said that last night and meant it. And I’m sorry too. I’ll...do something for you okay? I haven’t figured it out yet, but I will.”

  “You don’t need to L—”

  “I do,” I cut her off. “Please just...I do okay? I want to make it up to you, try and be a good girlfriend.”

  “You’re already a good girlfriend,” she murmured, taking my hand. “Better than I deserve.”

  “Not good enough,” I said, shaking my head. I wish I could tell her why but… “Anyway, I’ll get better, promise.”

  “Me too,” Amy said, squeezing my hand.

  “So uh, want anything?” I asked. “I could get you a present, or maybe we could go for dinner or something?” She pursed her lips, then shrugged.

  “I’ll think about it, is that okay?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said with a nod. “Just let me know.”

  I settled against her as we picked at our lunches. I’d have to be satisfied with that, for now.

  I hummed quietly to myself as the needle when in and out of the balaclava’s loose fabric. Hand-sewing had never been my strong suit, but my new ‘job’ was giving me plenty of practice. First dickhead with the bottle cutting my turtleneck, then the guy mag dumping me the other night. Nothing had gotten through my projection, of course, but the fabric was too thick for it to all be protected.

  It wasn’t a bad thing though, some quiet time to myself. More than that, it actually felt like work worth doing since it was fueling my heroics; heroics that had almost come to an end just a few nights ago. I still couldn’t believe I’d encountered Glory Girl of all fucking capes, couldn’t believe she’d let me go. The next day had been nervewracking, but no superpowered boot had ever come crashing down so it seemed she’d been telling the truth.

  That didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Victoria, from what little I knew about her, was a brick wall with the ability to fly when she made her mind up. She said she was going to arrest me, and I’d been absolutely ready to go down swinging. Then she’d flown off and I hadn’t heard anything about it. Like dodging a bullet with a grudge.

  I couldn’t spend anymore time worrying about it though. The PRT wasn’t going to okay me for patrols until I met whatever bullshit standard they wanted. It was impossible to say how long that would be, so I had to focus on my solo nights; and avoiding a repeat of the last one if I could help it. Hero work that was against the rules was good work, but it was obvious the other heroes didn’t feel that way. At least, not if Glory Girl’s reaction had been anything to go by.

  A knock at my door interrupted my train of thought. I frowned and glanced at the time, then shook my head. I wasn’t supposed to have anything going on right now, not that I could remember. As quick as I could, I bundled the almost-fixed balaclava into my closet and grabbed my mask and hood. They were easier to put on with my new haircut, and I quickly hit the button to open the door.

  “Good evening Amelia,” Miss Stanford greeted me. “Apologies for the late call, do you have a few minutes to talk? It’s important, but if you’re busy it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Sure, why not,” I said, stepping out of my room and shutting the door behind me. She led me over to a table in the common area, currently empty, and we sat across from each other. I bounced my foot, heart beating a little faster. “So...what’s this about?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s good news,” she said, offering a smile as she took a binder from her bag. “I may have found a family interested in fostering you.”

  “Oh.” I blinked. “Um, I thought it was going to be like...three months or something.”

  “As did I,” she replied. “Although in fairness, it’s been nearly two since then.” I sighed.

  “Crazy,” I said.

  “Mm, time does fly,” Stanford agreed. She pushed a document my way. “Let me know what you think.”

  I took it and began reading, a description of the family that wanted to take me in. A relatively young couple with a two-year-old of their own and that was all. There was a brief bio that I skimmed, though it didn’t answer why they wanted to adopt me. After a moment I shrugged and tossed it back on the table.

  “Okay, so what?” I asked. “Do I like, pack up or something?”

  “Oh heavens no,” Stanford said, taking the papers back and putting them in her binder. “I’ve scheduled a meeting between you in two weeks, pending the results of both our and the PRT’s investigations into their background; and assuming you consent.”

  “Wait, I get a say in this?” I said, taken aback.

  “Of course,” she said, sounding confused. “While I’d love to see you settled with a family as soon as possible, if you refuse you’ll remain in...limbo, so to speak.”

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  “Limbo?”

  “The PRT is not your legal guardian, technically speaking,” she explained with a weary sigh. “They have been acting in loco parentis because of the state of emergency, your status as a parahuman minor, and your mother’s connections. To not mince words: it’s a mess.”

  “Sorry.”

  “And none of it is your fault,” Stanford said firmly. “The PRT has a legal obligation to find you a proper home, as well as taking care of you in the mean time. However, you’re a young adult, nearly an adult in your own right. They won’t force you because they know that could produce a volatile situation.”

  “I guess that’s good,” I said. “It’s just… I don’t know, it seems pointless.”

  “In what regard?”

  “I don’t know I…” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “I could probably live with my girlfriend. It’s nice to have this place and stuff, but I’d rather be with her if I’m honest. And you said it, I’m practically an adult. Why don’t they just do that?”

  “You’re talking about emancipation?” Stanford asked.

  “Uhh, sure?” I shrugged. “I don’t know what Abraham Lincoln has to do with it but—”

  “No, emancipation would make you legally an adult.”

  “Oh.” I blinked. “Well okay, can we do that?”

  “If a few requirements were fulfilled,” she said with a nod. “But it would require the approval of your current legal guardian, or a court order.”

  “So no fucking chance,” I sighed.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Stanford countered with a shake of her head. “But it certainly wouldn’t be easy. If I may say though, I think being with a family who cares for you is a better option than any of the others we’ve discussed.” I pursed my lips and stared at the table. I heard the shuffling of papers and the squeak of a chair. “As I said, I won’t force you Amaranth. I only want you to consider what’s really best.”

  “I’ll think about it okay?” I said as she walked past me.

  “I’d appreciate that, Amaranth. Good night.”

  I sighed and returned to my room, retrieving my balaclava. I stared numbly at it, not even able to think about where I left off. I tossed it into my closet and lay down on my bed, face buried in the pillow. My head was filled with the stupid factoids I’d been left with for the family that allegedly wanted to take me in, buzzing around like a nest of Skitter-controlled hornets.

  They were just...so young, the guy’s wife wasn’t even ten years older than me. Plus they had a baby of their own to deal with. No way the PRT had given them the full story about me being...difficult, they’d have never entertained the idea. That would be a hell of a surprise for them, if they even adopted me, if I even wanted them to.

  I should really try. Sure I’d practically given up following some of the PRT’s rules, but they seemed to actually want to help here. At the very least, I trusted that Miss Stanford wanted to help. She’d been on my side anytime I needed someone and didn’t seem onboard with all the bullshit that got heaped on me; even when I was okay with it. Maybe if it was her, not some random civilians, it would be okay.

  I sighed and shut my eyes. I didn’t want to think about right now, or really at all. I’d just have to hope, however it went, it wouldn’t mess up my hero work too badly.

  “Hey, come on up.”

  I winced at the sound of Amy’s ragged voice through the speaker and quickly opened the buzzing, unlocked door into her building. She was only on the third floor, so I took the stairs; the elevator would have been three times longer, I was pretty sure it was older than the city itself. How it survived Shatterbird and the Nine I’d never know, maybe that was why it was so damn slow.

  Tonight had been uneventful. No Nazi thugs loitering and causing trouble, no active muggings. I should have been happy, but it just made me feel worse about being so late. When I got up to her door, I tried the handle unthinking. To my shock, the door opened and let me into Amy’s dimly lit apartment. A moment later, her head poked around the corner, buzzing toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. I gave her a wave as I took my shoes off and she vanished back into the bathroom. I heard her spitting as I dropped my bag and headed in after her, wrapping my arms around her back.

  “Hi,” I said quietly. “Missed you.”

  “Hey,” Amy replied, turning around in my grip and hugging me back. “You’re late.”

  “Sorry,” I apologized, as usual. “I’m really bad at keeping track of time.”

  “And you smell like sweat,” she added.

  “Sorry,” I repeated, wincing. “I’ll get a shower and—”

  “It’s fine,” she said, kissing the top of my head. “I...I need to ask you something. Get ready for bed, then we’ll talk?”

  I stiffened, heart suddenly galloping, but agreed with a squeak. She left the bathroom, and me to my thoughts. I got in the shower and scrubbed myself raw first, making sure I didn’t stink up the place more than I already had. After that was brushing my teeth, though unfortunately the loud buzzing didn’t do anything to stop my thoughts racing.

  It was probably fine. I hadn’t done anything that bad, besides being late half the nights we spent together. I didn’t go out all the time, but it was enough that I was probably starting to piss Amy off a little. It wasn’t really something where I could just say I’d do better, since until the heroes let me back out on their books I was going to continue doing it.

  There was no way Amy had figured it out, right? Not that she was stupid, just I’d been careful not to leave hints. I never brought my weapons in, always hid my ‘work’ outfit under everything else, and sure as hell didn’t talk about any of it. Anyway, she knew that school was actually busy so probably wasn’t worried about what I was doing. Hopefully.

  Once I was changed into the ratty shirt and shorts I wore to bed, I joined Amy under the covers. I sighed happily as her arm wrapped around my back and I leaned against her. It didn’t feel like she was mad, so I really shouldn’t worr—

  “Are you going out on unauthorized patrols?” I flinched hard enough that I bonked my head on her shoulder, getting a sigh. “God dammit Lia.”

  “It’s not—” I cut myself off, face burning. “I’m not… Um, it’s not what you think.”

  “So you’re not going out hunting bad guys before you come over here?”

  “Not...every night.”

  “Fuck sake Lia,” she groaned.

  “It’s nothing bad,” I said quickly. “It’s just what I’d be doing on patrol, hero work you know?”

  “And it’s going to get you in trouble or hurt,” she snapped. “You don’t exactly have a good track record of avoiding injury, projection or not.”

  “It’s fine, I’ve been okay,” I countered. “And I’ve been helping people Amy, really helping people.” And burning out Nazi safe havens, but that counted in my opinion.

  “How long?”

  “Um, just about a month an—”

  “A month?” I winced at her shriek.

  “I’m sorry,” I said in a rush. “The PRT suspended me from patrols and things kept getting worse and worse. I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing, just let people get hurt because I wasn’t ‘allowed’ to help them. You healed the people from the church, you know how bad it is. How could they just expect me to let that happen and do nothing?”

  “I need you to be a hero,” she said, almost pleading.

  “I want to be a hero,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling away so I could meet her eyes. Amy looked like she was about to cry. “I want to save people, I want to make this city safe. They’re not letting me so… But I can’t stop, just like you can stop healing people I...I can’t.” Her grip on my hand tightened.

  “I don’t—” Amy choked and sniffled. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I stared at the bed.

  “I didn’t want to get you involved,” I said quietly. “I knew I was breaking the rules and...and I knew you’d be angry at me. I was scared you’d go to the Protectorate or something. I’m sorry Amy I just… I couldn’t.”

  “You couldn’t trust me?” The accusation made my lower lip wobble, and I bit it until I tasted blood. “Of course not. It’s fine, I don’t deserve it anyway.”

  “Amy I couldn’t tell anyone,” I said plaintively. “And...and even if you weren’t going to tell them, if they ever found out and found out you knew it would come back on you too. You don’t deserve to get fucked over because I’m a bad person.”

  “You…” I heard her grinding her teeth. “Have you hurt anybody?”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean seriously,” she said, voice low and shaky. “Not the usual broken bones, I mean badly.” I quickly shook my head.

  “No I haven’t just—” I winced. “Um...Hannibal.”

  “I should have fucking realized that was you,” Amy groaned. “God dammit Lia, his hand?”

  “I couldn’t help it, he was a Brute,” I complained. “They’re not like you and me, they just don’t give...until they do.”

  “You’re lucky he has a healing factor,” she said. “Or I’d be really pissed.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “But that was it. Everyone else is just...bruises and broken noses and stuff.” I glanced up and saw her studying me silently. There were tracks from tears on her cheeks, but she wasn’t crying anymore.

  “You need to stop.”

  “No,” I retorted instantly. “I can’t Amy, I can’t stop because doing nothing is a worse crime than breaking the rules. You know I stopped someone from being mugged or hate-crimed my first night out? My first night. These guys are out here destroying lives, destroying families. How can I stop helping people, how is that not the thing a real monster would do?”

  We looked away from each other. I felt awful, blowing up like that, but how could she even suggest stopping? Fuck, her sister was out there turning a fucking blind eye, why couldn’t she? My guts were churning, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I focused on it, trying to slow down my breathing before I made myself throw up. I already ruined everything, I didn’t want to make it somehow worse.

  “God dammit,” Amy swore after a few minutes. I look over and found her staring at me with iron in her gaze. “Lia, you need to talk to me about this stuff. I can’t… You can’t keep something like this from me, it’s not okay.”

  “Sorry,” I said, voice small.

  “I’ll accept your apology, but,” she held up a finger. “You can’t lie to me about this anymore. You want to go out, be a hero? Fine, but you need to tell me what you’re doing. You almost went too far with Hannibal, you need to be more careful. If you have to tell me, then you will be.” My eyes widened.

  “That’s...it?” I could hardly believe it, but she gave me a nod. “Okay, yeah, I can do that. I… I don’t want to get you too involved, but if it’s just telling you I guess that’s okay.”

  “Lia, I’m involved,” Amy said firmly. “I won’t tell the PRT unless you really fuck up, but I know now.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. I really couldn’t believe she was okay just like that. Oh fuck she wanted to know everything… “Um, I… I have to tell you one other thing, I guess.”

  “Oh christ,” she muttered.

  “I didn’t hurt anyone!” I exclaimed, holding up my hands. “I promise, not more than bruises but, um… I burned down a tattoo parlor.”

  “You what?!” I flinched as she shrieked. “Lia what the fuck?”

  “Let me explain,” I said, grabbing her hands. I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I… Okay, you remember my tattoos? It was where I got them. It was a Nazi place, through and through. There was no one there and I couldn’t...couldn’t just leave it standing, not after that.”

  “Oh my god.” Amy pressed a hand to her forehead. “You committed arson.”

  “Amy that was where Victor told me about my mom.”

  “Oh.” There was a long, tense silence. She let go of my hands and I shrank back, then flinched as her arms wrapped around me. “It...I think I get it. Just don’t do it again.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, hugging her back. “I’m sorry Amy.”

  “I know,” she murmured, fingers gently rubbing my scalp. “You’re still my hero.”

  “Thank you,” I said, nuzzling into her neck. “You’re better than I deserve.”

  “I’m just helping like you helped me,” Amy said. “I needed someone to keep me from falling and...and you did that. Keeping you on the straight and narrow is the least I can do.”

  We settled down for bed. I rolled on my side, sighing as her arm wrapped around my chest and pulled me close. My heart was still racing, bad enough I almost asked her to do something about it with her power. Instead, she held me just a little tighter, and soon I found it beating slower. I pulled her hand a little higher, planting a kiss on it. I gasped as she kissed the back of my neck.

  “Good night Lia,” Amy whispered.

  “Thanks Amy,” I replied, kissing her again. “Good night.”

  And it was.