basically be Girl Power’s adviser? I think there’s something else going on there. And it’s not fair.”
Just as the words leave his lips, Claire and Joy stumble out of a closet, all disheveled and splotchy, grinning from ear to ear. Claire works to smooth down her purple hair, while Joy quickly turns and heads off, disappearing down the hall. It was a quick, blink-and-you-missed-it moment but definitely not the most covert move I’ve ever seen. There are lots of places in HQ to sneak away for privacy (Matt and I frequented the service elevator in the west wing), but that doesn’t mean there’s not somebody always watching.
Teddy rolls his eyes. “See what I mean?” He turns to Claire. “We missed you in this morning’s committee meeting,” he sneers, delighting in the fact that she apparently forgot to attend.
“Wait…what?” She panics, pulling out her tablet. “I didn’t see any meeting on my schedule.”
“Well, check again, because it happened. Without you. Did you finish steaming Millie’s pantsuit for the press conference this afternoon?”
“Yes, it’s hanging in her office,” she replies, still scanning her screen, face turning red. “Um, I’m going to take my lunch break now.”
“Only thirty minutes today,” he says, trying to assert some authority. “I need your help transcribing the anonymous tip hotline.”
“I’ll be there,” Claire assures, less than enthused. Teddy gives me a parting nod, then dashes off to insert himself into a situation that probably doesn’t require his help. “Uuggghhhh,” Claire groans once he’s out of earshot. “I swear my schedule was completely clear when I checked this morning. Teddy’s always checking in on me like I’m a child.”
“I’m not his biggest fan either,” I admit. “Actually, I don’t think he has a lot of fans around here.”
“Shocker.” She feigns surprise. “Anyway, thanks for coming! I am super excited to get some advice from the Bridgette Rey.”
“Tip number one,” I say as we start heading toward the cafeteria. “Find a less obvious make-out spot.”
She freezes, hyperalert like a rabbit about to get snapped up by a fox. “Wha-what?”
“Even Teddy knew what you two were doing in there, and you don’t want that guy in on your business. Try somewhere with less foot traffic, like the records department or decommissioned weapons storage area. I think there’s an abandoned tank previously used by—”
“War Path! Yes! That G.I. Joe guy from the eighties? OMG, you are a genius.” She opens up a giant notebook from under her arm, a leather-bound book so packed with scribbles and additional Post-it notes, I’m surprised the spine hasn’t disintegrated from exhaustion. Somehow finding a blank page, Claire starts writing.
“Are you taking notes?” I laugh.
“Uh, yeah! This is good information.” She leads us to a table in the back corner of the cafeteria, far enough away that no one else should be able to hear us talk. The space makes me catch my breath, because hanging on the wall is a giant paper mural I made three years ago.
“It’s still here,” I whisper, looking up at the colorful shapes depicting the Warrior Nation chapter at the time. It’s an abstract representation, focusing more on the movement and strength of the heroes, with Blue Streak’s massive navy arms punching toward the sky, and Vaporizer’s swift invisibility represented with a semi-transparent vellum. All of my most recent visits to HQ have been to either the hospital or briefing room, and I almost forgot about all the hours I spent cutting and placing these paper pieces together for a community I was excited to join. It looks even better than I remember, except for one piece of misplaced purple paper in Blue Streak’s cape. At the time, I was running low on supplies, using up every scrap of blue I owned. I tucked in an indigo square to fill in a patch of midnight blue, but never liked the way it looked, sticking out like a sore thumb. Matt said I was being ridiculous, yet there it is, taunting me just like before. Still, I snap a few pictures with my phone, thinking this could be a good entry for my portfolio, especially since my injury has made it hard to create anything new.
“Isn’t this this coolest?” Claire asks, beaming up at the paper heroes. “I have a mural at home, but it’s crap compared to this.”
“It’s mine,” I admit, heart swelling. “I made this.”
Claire’s mouth drops. “You did?”
“Back when I was Team Warrior Nation for Life.”
“Oh.” Her face bends in embarrassment, teeth clenched like she’s made a huge