Our date? OUR DATE? “God, Joy, who even cares about that?!” I kneel at her side, stroking her forearm in concern where a series of tubes feed her medicine. “I’m just glad you’re okay!”
Her parents excuse themselves to the living room, the Warrior Nation doctor following. I lean in closer, wanting to kiss her but worried I’d hurt her somehow. “Joy, what happened?”
Her eyes flutter as her heavy head flops my way. “The police called us to a scene as backup—those guys that kidnapped you? They were robbing a bank. Hostages, guns: the whole thing. Matt and I snuck in the back, and after we took out those goons…” She pauses. “The guy with that weird black helmet thing? He picked up a safe and threw it at my head.”
I cringe, the mere suggestion of metal scraping scalp making me squirm. She continues. “It just grazed me, but…I must have blacked out. Mom said they brought me home from the HQ hospital this morning, but I don’t even remember being there.”
I squeeze her hand, and she winces, quickly pulling it away. I squeal, “Oh god, I’m sorry!”
Joy frowns but then shakes her head. “My hands hurt more than anything. Those guys were wearing some kind of rock-hard protective armor, and no one tells you how much it hurts to throw a punch. Matt says I’ll get used to it.”
This is different from her other incidents. Her first real injury. And I know she says she’s okay, but she sure doesn’t look it, hooked up to an IV with a full bolt of bandage around her head. I get that she’s on massive drugs right now, but she’s making her attack seem like no big deal, while I am completely freaking out inside. “How is it that you’re handling this so much better than I am?”
“Maybe all your Warrior teachings are finally rubbing off on me.” I’m glad she’s in good spirits, but I’m having a hard time with all of this, especially since her parents are fighting outside the door. In between Joy’s words, I catch snippets of theirs through the thin walls.
“It’s not worth it, Greg!” her mom shouts. “I don’t care if we signed that new lease. She’s getting hurt!”
“We agreed—Joy agreed—to be a Warrior for a year,” her dad says, pained. “One year to make some money for the family and then quit. I know today’s been hard, but try to see the positives. She’s getting endorsement offers—”
“Are you kidding me right now? We can’t put our daughter through this just to make some money….”
“I don’t feel good about it either, Marsha, but what are we supposed to do? She signed a contract! We need her to get through this!”
Wait a minute…what? Girl Power’s only planning on being a hero for a year? She has never—ever—mentioned that before.
Joy reaches with her wounded hand for mine. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
I know this probably isn’t the right time to ask, but I’m having a hard time understanding what I just heard. “Joy…is that all true?”
Her head slumps deeper into the pillow as she exhales deeply. “I mean…yeah? It was at first. It wasn’t my lifelong dream to save the world, you know that. But the Warrior recruiter shoved a lot of dollar signs in my face. And my family needed the money….”
I blink rapidly, trying to process. “Did your parents force you into this?”
“No, god, nothing like that. I wanted to do it, for all of us. Being a Warrior for one year will make more money than either of them could in a lifetime.”
My chin crumples into my neck in disgust. I don’t like what she’s saying; Warrior Nation is not some get-rich-quick scam. “Being a hero is an honor, not a paycheck,” I say, disappointed.
“C’mon, don’t look at me like that,” she objects, trying to sit up in her bed but struggling to find the strength.
“Like what?”
“Like I just kicked a sack full of puppies.”
I cross my arms. “That’s not what I’m thinking.”
“No, you’re thinking Warrior Nation is some sacred birth-right and how dare I belittle this position by thinking of trivial things like money when people’s lives are on the line. Am I close?”
Shit. Did she recently pick up telepathy as a superpower? “Well…yeah. I don’t think you realize what you’ve started here. You took a spot in this chapter when there were probably hundreds of other hopefuls. People are already invested in you, your story. What would it do to