a working single parent takes a toll on Mom. Managing a two-bedroom place on one salary isn’t easy, but Mom uses her accountant skills to crunch the budget and make it work. Most of the time. Sometimes I contribute some grocery money when things get tight by walking some of Demi’s dogs, but Mom always gets mad at me when I do, saying I need to focus on school. There’s really no way she’ll be able to swing college tuition, so she’s banking on me raking in some serious scholarships. Of course, I’m counting on my time at Warrior Nation leading to a job after graduation, so we’ll see. Either way, I have to make things happen. For the both of us.
When things look good, I head to my room, firing up my laptop to scroll through my Warrior Nation fansites to see what I missed during the past eight hours. Even if I’m not allowed to post anything, there’s no way I’ll ever give up this habit.
There’s a story about Kitty Vicious, a Los Angeles Warrior, who saved a bus full of schoolkids from plummeting off a cliff in the Hollywood Hills. She’s pictured showing off her razor-sharp claws in a leopard-print bodysuit, back arched in a semi-provocative feline pose. The LA heroes can be so over the top. One of them—Storm Chaser—even drops his catchphrase as a hashtag mid-rescue. As in, “Hashtag make it rain!” Stupid. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t taken to Vaporizer as much as the other Chicago heroes. Since he joined four years ago, he’s probably posed for more fan photos than the rest of the chapter combined. Yeah, he’s young and hot, but the dude spends so much time chasing fame, I don’t know how he gets anything else done. Maybe I’m basic, but I like heroes who flex muscle over celebrity.
There’s other posts about Earthquake’s new line of “ground-shaking” sneakers, and how the NYC chapter participated in a firefighter charity event, but I zero in on the top story of the day everyone is flipping out over:
Blue Streak announces retirement!
Press conference to live-stream at
8:00 p.m. tonight!
My heart tightens even though I already heard the news. I still can’t believe this is happening. Maybe Teddy was right about my being lucky today—at least I found out in the way that I did, and I got to see my hero in the flesh.
I look up at my wall, where a vintage poster of Blue Streak smiles down at me. It’s comforting, still, to see that strong jaw and kind eyes proudly posing in the sun. Surrounding him is a giant mural of all my most precious and important hero artwork, clippings, and ephemera: things that are too big or too precious to be taped into my grail diary. I started the collection when I was ten, and over the past seven years, it’s grown to be the ultimate snapshot of a WarNat’s heart.
In the center is my self-made “map of heroes,” a USA-shape bulletin board where I’ve pinned pictures of every hero from every chapter: Chicago, New York City, Los Angeles, Boston, and Dallas, and the mini chapters in New Orleans, Phoenix, and Philadelphia. It’s heartbreaking, really, how quickly the chapter rosters can change, but I keep all the heroes up there, even when they’ve retired or died, because they all deserve respect for their dedication and bravery. The rest of my mural is mainly devoted to Blue Streak, and includes magazine covers, souvenir photos, fan art, and a full-size replica of his suit that I found on Etsy. I also have an official Blue Streak winged eye mask that I sometimes wear when I’m feeling sad. Maybe I’ll wear it tonight while watching his press conference.
“Helloooooo?” I hear my mom call from the door. “Any-one home?”
“Coming!” I race to the living room, and upon seeing my burst of excitement, she drops her purse, covering her mouth with her hands.
“Oh my god, you did it?” she cries. “You really did it?”
“Yes!” I launch myself into her. “Mom, I was at Warrior Nation today! I’m the first intern to ever find an entrance!”
“AHHHH!” We both start screaming, jumping up and down as if we just won the lottery. And as far as I’m concerned, we did! Mom dances around in her low-slung heels and blazer, dirty-blond bob bouncing in the air. We join hands and she swings me around, before pulling me in for a tight hug.
“I am so, so proud of you,” she