askew across his pasty forehead. “I’m sure you’ve done a real bang-up job!”
Millie quickly grumbles something under her breath, turning her back on Roy while firing up the projector screen in the front. No one even reaches for the coffee and treats I so painstakingly gathered, but once everyone is comfortable, Teddy dims the lights and the two of us stand in the shadows.
A slideshow begins as Millie goes into TED Talk mode. “Joy, on behalf of everyone at Warrior Nation, I want to say how thrilled we are to have you as part of this organization. A strong, powerful female like you is exactly what this chapter needs to reach new levels of success. Our design and marketing departments have come up with a brand and hero look we think you’ll really love.” She pauses, letting the final slide take the full spotlight: a rendering of Joy, hands on hips, gazing into the theoretical sunset, fully decked out in an extremely low-cut hot-pink leotard, with sparkly letters reading “Girl Power” beside her.
…Girl…Power?
“Girl Power is epic, the ultimate personification of female empowerment,” Millie dramatizes, with the most inflection I’ve ever heard come out of her tiny body. Her fists clench in excitement, and…is that a smile I see on her face?! “This woman is smart, fierce, not to mention kick-ass. Females across the world will look to her, as she fights their battles and wears their victories with pride.”
Roy jumps out of his seat, fervently clapping with his string-bean arms, but once he realizes no one else in the room is sharing his enthusiasm, he awkwardly slides back into his seat.
There’s a long pause as Joy takes in the concept art. “I’m…not wearing much at all,” Joy croaks, her face suddenly drained of color. And she’s not wrong: Her alter ego on the screen wears a spandex bodysuit cut high over her hips, with a deeply plunging neckline and over-the-knee high-heeled boots. Posed in several provocative stances that I’ve never once seen an actual hero strike out in the field, Girl Power winks at the camera, her look accessorized with bracelets that crisscross up her arms and an afterthought of an eye mask, but to be honest, with all that skin, who would be looking at her face? Joy, who minutes ago was arrogantly bragging about being ready for the superhero life, has suddenly turned sheet white, frozen in her chair.
When she doesn’t say anything else, a man who looks like the world’s most boring accountant offers, “This tested very well with our focus groups.”
I muffle a groan. It’s disappointing but not surprising. Back in the day, hyper-sexualized superwomen were the name of the game. Even though all the early female Warriors had talent to spare, somehow their super suits were designed to stun opponents with their looks alone. This Girl Power concept is not the worst outfit I’ve seen: That crown goes to a 1970s-era hero named She Bangs who fought evil in a string bikini. But still, Warrior Nation doesn’t have to go to this extreme.
Joy remains frozen, blue eyes wide with worry. Millie, sensing discomfort in the room, switches to the next slide, which features another rendering of Girl Power, but this time in an even more come-hither pose that sends a bead of sweat down my back. “Yes, particularly with males ages thirty-five and up—”
“Wait,” Joy cries, breaking out of her stunned silence. “Wait. I…don’t want to hear about what old dudes think of this. I want to know what someone my age thinks.”
Millie flips through slides flashing pie charts and bar graphs, searching for statistics to support her cause. “No.” Joy stops her. “Not data. Not some random opinions. From someone who gets it.” Her eyes dart around the dark room, finding me in the back. “Claire,” she cries out. “I want to hear what Claire thinks.”
I almost drop my tablet as six suits swing their heads my way. “Me?” I choke. “Why me?”
Millie, frustrated that her presentation was not a slam dunk, tries to intervene. “Miss Goodwin, with all due respect, Miss Rice is an intern, and—”
“But this is her world!” Joy insists. “She is straight obsessed with heroes! She knows what works and what doesn’t.” She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed. “I am not moving forward without her opinion.”
The executives murmur amongst themselves as I feel my chest burn with nerves. What is happening right now? Why is Joy asking me this? I mean, from the moment we met, it’s been nothing but