Super Secret Series (Book 1): Super Model (3 page)

“You Audrey?”

It turns out that pancakes can take a long time. I sat on the stoop waiting for at least two hours. While I was there, tenants came in and out of the building. I asked each one if they were Audrey or if they knew where Audrey was. Each of them said no. And the longer I sat there, the madder I got about it. I was out here waiting for my destiny and my destiny was taking her sweet time.

By the time the couple got out of the blue Volkswagen and headed toward the building, I was just about ready to pack it in for the day. I asked the same question I’d been asking all day almost halfheartedly. “You Audrey?”

“Yeah?” The chick in the hoodie and jeans answered but seemed wary. She stopped right in front of me and the guy murmured something to her and sidestepped me before heading into the building. I stood up and adjusted myself. Now that I was standing in front of her, I was a little nervous.

I started to introduce myself but she cut me off with “Are you one of the Pham kids’ friends? Because I meant what I said about no more roof parties.”

My annoyance bubbled up through my mouth. “If I were here to see somebody else, I’d asked for somebody else. I’m here to see you.”

She seemed to be getting impatient, too. “Then what do you want? Are you getting a head start on selling Girl Scout Cookies?”

“It doesn’t look like you need any more cookies to me.”

“Listen, Kid—” she started.

“My name isn’t kid,” I cut her off. “It’s Penny.” For a moment I felt a little self-conscious. I’d never spoken this aloud to anyone but my father. But if I didn’t ask her, I wasn’t going to get anywhere. And I had to get the answers I’d come for. “Are. . . are you gonna help me be a Super or not?”

“Who the hell are you?” Audrey hustled me into her small, messy apartment and slammed the door behind us.

A TV was on one wall and a couch on the other. There was a pile of clothes in the corner and a coffee table filled with beer bottles and an empty pizza box. On an end table next to the couch, a fish floated in a small bowl, making me wonder if it was still living. Basically, it looked like it belonged to a teenage boy whose parents had been out of town for too long.

“Penny. Your Little Super.”

That only confused her even more. “My what?”

I repeated myself. “Your Little Super.”

“That’s what I thought you said but I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Here.” I’d come prepared. I pulled the letter from my backpack and handed it to her. “This look familiar?”

She took the paper from me and skimmed over it in silence. It was a few moments before she spoke again. “This is wrong. I never signed up to mentor anyone. I didn’t even know this program existed. And it sounds like exactly the sort of thing I’d avoid if I ever did hear about it.” She handed the paper back. “Sorry, Kid.”

“My name is not ‘Kid.’” This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I’d been counting on Audrey to help me. I looked down at the letter again, as if reading it for the four hundredth time would tell me anything new “I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be going to the Academy this year and I need a Big Super. What am I supposed to do now?”

Audrey shook her head. “Let’s just ignore it. Someone will figure out their mistake sooner or—”

“No! I need a Big Super. I need help now!” It came out harsher than I meant it too but the idea that she was going to just send me away terrified me.

She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

I crossed my own arms, leaned back against her front door, and gave her the same look I gave Mrs. Moak when she thought she was going to give me a B in Geometry. “I’m not leaving here until you help me.”

Apparently, Audrey had had enough of me. She tried to push me out of the way with one hand and open the door with the other. I refused to budge. The two of us pushed back and forth until I lost my footing and knocked over the fish bowl on the end table next the couch. The bowl fell to the hardwood floor with a boom and broke into a million shards, leaving the fish flopping in a puddle on the ground.

“Crash!” Audrey dove into the broken glass and spilled water and grabbed for the fish.

I just stood by the door, too shocked to move. By the time I found my voice, Audrey had scooped up the fish but had also cut herself in the process. Blood was running through her cupped hands and dripping onto the floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make the bowl crash.”

“No! Not the bowl! The fish!” she screamed back at me, running into the kitchen with her hands still cupped. “Help me!”

I ran into the kitchen after her. “What should I do? What should I do?”

“Get a pot out of the cabinet and fill it with water!” she shouted. I followed her instructions as quickly as possible and yanked the cabinet open. There was only a box of Cheez-its and an old beat-up pot. “Put some water in it!” I turned on the water faucet and pushed the pot underneath it.

As soon as the water started to pool into the pot, Audrey leaned over it and opened her cupped hands, plopping her fish into it. We stood side by side at the sink, looking down into the pot. It was only when the fish took a full lap around the pot that we both let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s Crash. He’s my roommate,” Audrey explained, pointing at the fish.

I was glad for her fish but I was actually more concerned with her hands. They were bloody and she’d obviously been hurt. “Do you need to go to the ER?”

Audrey rolled her eyes. “No.” Then she moved Crash and his new home to the counter and used the running water to rinse her hands off. Once she cleaned herself up, it was clear that the glass had sliced her left hand pretty far down. It looked ugly enough to need a doctor.

“No, I really think you need to go—“ But before I could finish telling her that she would get an infection if she didn’t take care of it, the gash was gone. I had to blink my eyes to make sure I was seeing right. The skin on her hand literally grew back together and covered the wound right before my eyes. She looked as good as new.

A thousand things went through my mind at once. If I thought I was in the wrong place, seeing this made it clear I wasn’t. I tried to get myself together but the shock of what I was seeing was too much.

Audrey didn’t seem affected at all. “Ugh, I need a beer!” She took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, twisted it opened, and took a big gulp from it. “What?” She pointed at her bottle. “You want one?”

“It’s not even eleven in the morning. And, I’m thirteen.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She took a couple of more gulps and then threw the empty bottle into the overflowing trashcan. “This whole thing is obviously a mistake. Someone mixed up the names from some database or something. All you have to do is get in touch with whoever runs this program and tell them. They’ll probably assign you a new Big Super and you’ll get some lucky person to be your mentor.”

I looked at the letter again. “There’s a phone number. I guess I could call tomorrow when they open.”

“Or you could just go down there, ambush them, and refuse to leave until you get what you want,” Audrey mumbled sarcastically.

I folded the letter up and put it back in my bag before walking toward the door. “Actually, that’s a great idea. If we go down there and tell them about the mistake, they’ll have to do something about it right away.”

“We?”

“Yes, you have to go with me.”

“Why? You seem capable of handling yourself.”

“But I need you there to explain that you never signed up. It will better coming from you.”

“I’d have to check my schedule actually. I have to get up early. I have a lot of work to do. Errands. Adult shit.”

“Perfect. I don’t even get out of school until two and I have a makeup test in math after that. I’ll meet you at the office in Midtown around four. You just tell them what you told me and you’ll never see me again,” I finished.

“Fine.” Audrey pushed me out of the way and opened her front door. “I’ll meet you down there but if you’re even a minute late, I’m outta there. And all I’m doing is telling them I didn’t sign up for the program. That’s it. I’m leaving right after that.”

I stepped out into the hallway. “Great!”

“Great!” And then she slammed the door closed right in my face.

I stood there for a half a second. It occurred to me that she might not show up the next day. I quickly pushed that thought away.
If she doesn’t show up, I still know where she lives. And I’ll come back with a sleeping bag and a can of Lysol if I have to.

“You’re late!”

I was standing on the corner of Fifty-first St and Sixth Ave, looking down Fifty-first for a moment and then down Sixth the other, like one of those bobble head toys. I hated that I looked so desperate but I just didn’t know which direction Audrey would be coming from. We’d agreed to meet there at four but I’d been there since 3:45 with my heart in my mouth.

I looked at my watch and watched the numbers change from 4:12 to 4:13. I wanted to say I didn’t believe that she would flake on me, but that would be a lie. She seemed like exactly the type of person to flake on me.

It was almost 4:30 before I saw her coming toward me on Sixth. Dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and a pair of sunglasses, Audrey looked like she’d been up all night. She scowled at my comment about her being late. “I’m here, aren’t I? Come on.” Then she walked past me and into the building, leaving me to scurry behind her.

The building lobby was nearly empty, with a security desk taking up most of the space. Audrey walked right up to the desk. “Appointment?” the security guard asked without looking up from his magazine.

“I don’t have one. I’m here to see whoever is in charge of the—” She turned to me. “What’s the name of it again?”

“Big Super, Little Super.”

Audrey turned back to the guard. “Yeah. Big Super, Little Super program. There’s been a mistake and I need to talk to someone.”

The guard gave us a baleful look. “What’s your name?”

“Audrey Hart.”

“You don’t have an appointment. Council number?”

Audrey rolled her eyes before rattling off an impossibly long number. I stopped counting after thirteenth digit.

“And you?” He was talking to me now.

“Penelope Gordon. And I don’t think I have a—”

“She’s going to Academy this year,” Audrey interrupted. “She doesn’t have one yet.”

The guard grunted before picking up the phone on his desk and dialing a few numbers. We waited silently.

“I have an Audrey Hart here to speak to someone about the Big Super, Little Super program.” He paused. “And she’s got an unregistered Academy applicant with her.” He paused again. “Penelope Gordon.” Yet another pause. “Will do.”

The guard hung up the phone. “Go to the eighth floor, make a right out of the elevator, and go all the way down to the end of hall. Since you don’t have an appointment, you’ll need these.” He put a pair of passes attached to lanyards on the counter. “Bring them back when you check out.”

We grabbed the passes. They were blue with “visitor” in capital red letters across the front. A frisson of electricity went through me. I was here at the Council. I’d gotten to the point where I stopped believing it would happen.

“Kid!” I looked up to see Audrey already standing in the elevator with crossed arms and furrowed brow. “Come on!” I hung the pass around my neck and followed her into the elevator, trying not to count my chickens before they hatched.

We found the office without much trouble. There was a big sign on the outer door that lead to the Office of Admissions. On the other side of it was a waiting room with a receptionist at a desk. “Audrey? Penelope?” the receptionist called out from behind the desk. “She’s waiting for you.” She pointed down the hallway. “Second door on the right.”

Audrey gave her a nod and kept walking down the hallway while I followed behind. The second door on the right was closed and the writing across the glass read

Miss Fine, Dean of Admissions

Audrey stopped in her tracks causing me to run right into her from behind and then together we stumbled into the wall. We looked like a scene from the Three Stooges. “What are you doing? That’s the right place.”

She turned white and let out a strangled sound. “No. I can’t. I gotta get out of here.”

“Why?”

She started walking back down the hallway. “Because.” She used it the way that adults use it—as a conversation ender.

Just then, the office door opened and a lady wearing a black dress, black tights, and a black sensible loafers stepped out into the hallway. She looked me up and down over her glasses. “Hello, Penelope. I’m Miss Fine. Step into my office.” Then she called down the hall, “And you, too, Audrey.”

“No, that’s OK. I forgot I have a prior engagement and I’m late.”

“Inside. Now.” The steel in her voice was clear. I hustled into her office and Audrey trailed behind.

Inside, Miss Fine sat behind her desk, where it looked like she had been having a very late lunch. She moved the remains of a salad, a bottled water, and a book about traveling to Greece out of view. Then she pointed to two chairs on the other side. “Have a seat. So, what can I do for you today, Audrey? Something about not liking your match with the Big Super, Little Super program?”

Audrey fidgeted in her seat. “You’re in charge of the Big Super, Little Super thing?”

“I’ve recently moved on from the auditing department. Now, I oversee the entire admissions department for the Academy. Big Super, Little Super is one the programs that we offer to our new students. So if the two of you have some sort of
complaint
about it, I’m the one to speak with.” She pronounced “complaint” like it was some contagious disease.

I cleared my throat. “Oh no, Miss Fine. I don’t have any complaints at all. I am actually very excited to be a part of the program. This means I’m going to the Academy, right?”

Miss Fine gave me a patronizing look. “All of our Little Supers will attend the Academy in the fall. A Big Super gives them some support from an adult Super, besides any family members of course. That’s how it works. You should have received an acceptance letter from the Academy
before
you received your assignment letter.”

My heart did a little flip. Could it really be this easy? “But I didn’t get an acceptance letter.”

“And
I
didn’t get an assignment letter,” Audrey chimed in. “In fact, I didn’t even sign up for this thing. And I’m definitely not qualified to be someone’s role model.” She stood up. “So, since you’re in charge of the whole shebang, you can get her a real Big Super and I can be on my way.”

“On that, we agree. You are the last one a young, impressionable mind should be looking up to. From what I remember, you’re hanging onto your Super license by the grace of the Council. You may have passed your probation but you’re still the same old Audrey—underwhelming powers that you barely control. No sense of duty. No sense of responsibility. You’re definitely not Big Super material.”

Audrey’s face reddened and I felt my own heat up in embarrassment for her. Before we could say anything else, Miss Fine stood up. “Let me just go get the paperwork for this and see what’s going on. Stay here.” She left the office, leaving me and Audrey alone.

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what I was apologizing for—maybe the fact that she’d just been embarrassed in front a kid. “Is what she said true? About you not being a very good Super.”

Audrey sighed. “Pretty much. I did get audited. I was on probation. I am kind of a fuck up.” She ticked each thing off with her fingers.

“And you’re still a Super? You made it through school and everything?”

She snorted. “Barely. But yeah.”

Miss Fine came back into the office with a handful of papers. “Well, it seems that there has been some sort of mistake. And for once, it wasn’t yours, Audrey.” She turned to me. “Penny, you were never accepted into the Academy. Your application is still incomplete. You were added to the Big Super, Little Super program by some glitch in the system.”

“Glitch?” Audrey repeated.

“Incomplete?” I repeated at the exact same time.

“Yes,” Miss Fine answered us both. “So it seems like the problem is solved. We’ll just cancel your assignment and—”

“Wait! But I want to go to the Academy. What do I have to do to complete my application?”

Miss Fine looked down at her paperwork. “Well, the written application was submitted. But the abilities assessments were never scheduled. And it looks like you’ve missed the deadline to schedule yours for fall admission.” She closed the file with a definitive tap. “But you’re welcome to apply for next year.”

“No!” My outburst startled both Audrey and Miss Fine. But I didn’t care. “I have to get in
this
year. There has to be a way.”

“Yeah,” Audrey added. “It’s your system glitch that made her think she was accepted. And aren’t you in charge of everything here? You could easily make an exception.”

“You of all people know that this organization is built on policy and rules. An exception just wouldn’t be fair to all of the other applicants who got their packets in on time.”

“Come on, Kid.” Audrey stood up. “You heard her. She’s not going to do anything to help you. Let me show you where the Council Department of Ethics and Oversight is. I’m sure they’d like to hear about this glitch and why it’s impossible to fix it.” I stood up to go with Audrey.

“Wait.” Miss Fine put her hand up. “No exceptions can be made but maybe I could offer an extension.” Audrey and I sat back down and Miss Fine went on. “I’ll give you a week to complete the evaluations. There’s no guarantee that you’ll be accepted but you’ll have a chance to finish the application process.”

I jumped up and shook Miss Fine’s hand across the desk. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She looked a little shocked but shook my hand. “No guarantees,” she repeated.

“Of course, of course. But I’m definitely going to pass and when I do,” I pointed at Audrey, “I want her to be my Big Super.” Miss Fine looked horrified, but nowhere near as horrified as Audrey did.