contract states that me leaving the organization means I can no longer get involved—”
“Since when do you bow down to pieces of paper?” Claire counters.
“Since going off on a mission by myself, without the intel or support of my chapter, could get me killed,” he says somberly. Claire and I share a pained look; she shudders at the thought. “Look, I think you both know I would get involved if I could, but my hands are tied. You two, on the other hand…” Charles pauses, deciding whether or not he should share his thoughts.
“Please,” I encourage him, “if there’s anything you can think of that will help us…”
He frowns, unsure. “Only if you promise you will stay out of harm’s way.”
“Of course, we promise,” I say, awkwardly crossing my heart with my cast. Claire nods enthusiastically.
“If it were me, I would focus on the other chapters,” he begins, tone laced with conspiracy. “Not sending in backup is against protocol, so what’s going on there? What are they afraid of?”
“Losing more heroes?” Claire asks.
“Possibly. But what if it’s something more?”
Something more? I don’t know what this could be. I’d be the first to admit that Warrior Nation is not a perfect organization, but Charles is implying they’re hiding some kind of serious skeletons in their closet. Like what? My biggest red flags have always been around the rigorous requirements of a hero’s job, but could there be something I’m missing? I can already see Claire’s brain working to decipher his potential clue.
“But what do I know?” Charles stands, towering above us. It’s almost impossible not to imagine his blue cape fluttering behind him. “I’m just an old man.”
“Not true—” Claire tries, but he stops her with a forced smile. Charles is not great at accepting praise, despite his years of practice. He motions for us to exit, but as we make our way back to his mansion, he holds me back, putting a strong arm over my shoulder.
“I want you to get yourself out of this, Bridgette,” he instructs, face stern. “You are too young, too bright, to have your light extinguished.”
This isn’t a friendly request; it’s a desperate demand. I’ve never seen him look like this, with such fear written on his face. “Charles…”
“I will do what I can to help,” he offers, tightening his grip on my arm. “But this…siege may be more than I can handle.” Could it be the reason he doesn’t want to help us is dread? I didn’t think Blue Streak was frightened by anything, but if the bravest hero of all time doesn’t want to get in this fight, what are Claire and I doing?
“Thank you.” My voice quivers. “People I care about are in danger.”
He releases me, giving one last grim stare. “I know. I fear what will happen next.”
Blue Streak Theme Song
Who saves the day when the world is weak?
Blue Streak!
Who’s brave and strong when the rest are meek?
Blue Streak!
Who fights with honor, courageous and true?
Willing to risk it all for you?
Blue Streak!
I TOUCHED HIS HAND. I WAS IN HIS HOUSE. Blue Streak has MY childhood thank-you letter framed on his wall. I’m floating, I’m dying—am I even still in my body? Oh, yes, because Bridgette just threw a crumpled train pass at my forehead.
“Hello? Claire? Are you coming?” she calls from the other side of the L turnstile.
“Sorry!” I fumble for my Ventra card, nestled safely in my phone case, and join her on the platform. I don’t even remember walking back to the Purple Line. I must have been orbiting planet Starstruck.
“That was weird, don’t you think?” Bridgette asks, staring down the train tracks.
“What do you mean? Chatting with Blue—er, Charles?” I recoil after saying his civilian name. It feels wrong in my mouth. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being on a first-name basis with my idol.
“Yeah.” Her forehead crumples above her sunglasses, mouth puckered in thought.
“I don’t know, that was pretty much one of the most amazing experiences of my entire life, so I can’t really say.” She nods, but the way her features are all tight and serious, it’s making me think I need to get my head out of the clouds. “Why?” I add.
She looks around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, then pulls me over to a covered vestibule. “It’s just…it doesn’t make sense,” she whispers, casually pulling at the ends of her hair to cover her lips. “Why wouldn’t Warrior Nation bring him in to help? He’s literally their only hope, even if