I panic, feeling my future slip away. “How? They aren’t supposed to finalize their decision until tomorrow!” This can’t be happening. It’s not fair! I’ve worked too hard for too long…. How do pretty girls just get everything handed to them?! How?!
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about; I was recruited weeks ago,” she says with a sassy grin.
That can’t be right! I wrote down the final internship deadline in my calendar in Sharpie! No way I messed it up. Brain scrambling, I ask, “Are there multiple positions or something?”
Her smile widens, taking pleasure in my meltdown. “Not that I know of.”
Argh! This reminds me of the time Heather Warren tried to psych me out of running for student council in sixth grade. She tricked me into thinking she was a shoo-in since her dad just donated a new candy vending machine to the school. But I didn’t back down then, and I won’t now. “You’re just trying to mess with me, but guess what: My whole life has built up to this internship. It’s my spot, I’ve earned it, and I don’t care if you did get here first or if I am shrimpy—I will fight you for it!” Balling up my fists, I get into a boxer’s stance, closing my eyes and praying that years of watching Warrior fight-scene footage has implanted some kind of phantom muscle memory into me.
But my attempt to look tough is met with pitying laughter as my opponent lowers my fists with her palms. “Slow down, killer. I’m not after your internship.”
I open my eyes as relief waterfalls through me. “You’re not?”
“No. But damn, you must want it really bad. That was both the bravest and most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks?” I feel my chest starting to break into hives.
“You must be one of those crazy WarNats I’ve heard so much about,” she says, looking down on me.
“Wait, aren’t you?”
She considers this, tapping a pale pink nail against her chin. “Well, I guess I am, now that I think about it….”
“Enough!” I stomp my foot, tired of this weird game she’s playing. “Can you just stop speaking in circles?! The clock is ticking, and if I don’t find an HQ entrance soon, then—”
Her blue eyes flash with mischief. “Oh, you mean like this?” She taps a barely discernible button on the ground with her flip-flop, which sends up some kind of light-blocking force field all around us. She leans over a circular glass plate on the floor, which instantly scans her face for recognition. A faint ping! chimes as a latch springs open and the glass door lifts, revealing a blue tunnel slide that can only lead to one place….
“OH MY GOD!” I scream in a pitch I’m sure only Demi’s dogs can hear. “How did you…Who…Oh my god! I found it! An HQ entrance! I DID IT!” My extreme happiness takes the form of a single tear sliding down my cheek; it’s like I’m dying and yet am now truly alive, experiencing a moment of euphoria so intense, it’s as if I’m being engulfed by the sun.
“Hey, um, are you okay?” the girl asks, waving a hand in front of my face to make sure I’m not having a stroke.
I blink rapidly and try to regain motor function. “Yeah,” I warble.
“Wow, you must really be into this hero stuff,” she laughs, batting her lashes in disbelief.
I wipe my face clean. “You have no idea. This is…” I feel myself starting to cry again. “…everything. How did you…?”
She shrugs casually, as if she didn’t just change my life forever. “Eh, don’t worry about it. It’s what heroes do, or so I’m told.” I stare at her blankly, completely fried from the emotional ride of almost losing everything only to have my ultimate dream come true. She continues, breaking into a playful smile. “I’m Joy, by the way.”
“Claire,” I say, but I can’t let this whole “knowing how to access an HQ entrance” thing drop. “But seriously, how did you do that?”
“Oh, that,” she says, sliding her hands into her back pockets, puffing up her chest and shaking out her hair like she’s in a damn shampoo commercial. “I mean, I probably shouldn’t say this, but whatever: I’m the newest hero in the Chicago Warrior chapter.”
It takes a second for her words to fully register. “WHAT?! Seriously? This is…” My insides erupt with an uncontainable explosion of questions. “Oh my god! What is your power? How long have you had it? When did