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Authors: Zoe Quinn

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BOOK: Totally Toxic
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Caitlin and Emily scooted from storefront to storefront, oohing and aahing over artful displays of scarf belts and cashmere sweaters. There was a raggedy jean jacket-vest that practically made Emily drool. I thought it was pretty cool myself.

“I absolutely
have
to try on that vest,” Emily announced. “Let's go in.”

Caitlin was already opening the door of the boutique. I had the weird sense that if I attempted to enter, she'd just as soon slam that door closed on my foot as hold it open for me.

“You two go ahead,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I'm going to pop over to the dry-cleaning store for a sec and say hi to my grandpa.”

“Oh, that's so cute,” said Caitlin, her words dripping with insincerity. “You're such a sweet granddaughter.”

“Okay,” said Emily. “We'll catch up with you there.”

I crossed the street and walked the half block to Grandpa's store. I wanted to see if my test results had come. When I entered the dry-cleaning store, the first thing I noticed was the serious look on my grandfather's face. Gran stood beside him behind the counter, looking equally somber.

“Something wrong?”

Grandpa held out an envelope. I recognized the stationery. It was from the Superhero Federation. Uh-oh.

“Bad news?” I gulped. “Again?”

“See for yourself,” Grandpa advised.”But I think we should go into the back room.”

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. From the way they were behaving, I could see that the letter told us I'd failed. I'd blown it. My throat went tight and I could feel my chin quivering. I followed them into the office, took out the letter and read.

Dear Zoe,

It is with great pleasure

Great pleasure? That sure didn't sound like a notification of failure! Maybe, just maybe…

I held my breath and read on eagerly.

that we, the Superhero Federation,
do hereby inform you that you
have been promoted to Superhero, First
Grade, and are, as of this date, considered
on Active Superhero Duty!

My head snapped up from the page and I saw Gran and Grandpa smiling.

“I passed?”

Gran beamed at me. “With flying colors!”

When she said that, three-dimensional streaks of colored light shot out of the page and began to soar around the room like a fast-moving rainbow.

“What are those?”

“Flying colors!” Grandpa said, reaching out to touch a streak of brilliant purple as it shrieked past his head.

I raised my hand and let the pink streak zoom through my fingers.

“Congratulations!” cried Grandpa.

“You guys knew all along!” I scolded, smiling my head off. “That was sneaky!”

For a few minutes, we watched the colors bolt around the room. It was more beautiful than a fireworks display—the colors crossed paths and shimmered, or collided and exploded into smaller streaks of new colors. All for me!

Me. The superhero! Officially on active duty, no less!

Finally, the light show dissolved and the letter did the self-destructing trick I remembered from before. And it happened just in the nick of time—as the light show ended and the letter puffed into nothingness, the front door of the shop opened, its little bell jangling happily as if it, too, wanted to congratulate me.

“Good afternoon, all!” said Electra Allbright, stepping into the store, carrying a pile of rumpled clothes.

“Ellie,” said Gran stiffly. “Back in town already?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” She turned to Grandpa Zack and gave him a glowing smile. “Nice to see
you
again, Zachary”

Electra Allbright, my favorite comic-book writer on this or any other planet, was standing there right in front of me, for the second time in my life. She'd popped into the dry cleaner's just a few weeks earlier when she was in town for a meet-and-greet at Cosmic Connie's Comic Shop. Weird—that was when I'd first discovered that I had superpowers. And here she was now, on the very day that I was being notified that I'd passed my test.

What was even weirder was that Gran knew her well enough to call her Ellie.

“Hi, Ms. Allbright,” I said. “Remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, Zelda.”

“Uh… Zoe.”

“Of course. Zoe.” She turned back to Gran and dropped her basket of clothing on the counter with a sigh. “I've just returned from a national tour of speaking engagements.”

“How nice for you,” snapped Gran, sounding as though she didn't think there was anything nice about it. She'd gone from stiff to snippy, and frankly, I couldn't believe it. My grandmother was the very personification of good manners and kindness. I'd never heard her be snippy to anyone!

Electra gushed on. “Oh, I love being on the road. But it's such a whirlwind—personal appearances at comic-book conventions, lecturing at art schools, visiting bookstores. And all those fancy receptions they throw for me certainly take their toll on my wardrobe. Consequently, I've got lots and lots of clothing that needs to be freshened up and pressed.”

“You could have had that done 'on the road,' “ said Gran.

That seemed like a strange thing for Gran to say. I didn't know much about the dry-cleaning business, but I was pretty sure it was counterproductive to encourage customers to take their clothes elsewhere.

“Of course I could have,” said Electra in a sugary voice. “But the last time I was here, you did such a wonderful job. Better than any dry cleaners I've ever patronized.

“I just loved the way Zachary pressed my pantsuits. He's got such a wonderful touch with steam ironing. He flattened my cuffs to perfection.”

I was shocked to see Grandpa blush a little. And for a minute, it looked like Gran wanted to flatten more than Electra's cuffs. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought Gran was acting
jealous.
But that was just plain ridiculous.

“So here's the big news,” Electra continued. “I've decided to
live right here in Sweetbriar! After all, I grew up not far from here, as you know.”

I didn't know. Nobody knew anything about Electra AUbright. Correction: Gran and Grandpa knew, apparently. But Electra's personal history was as famously secret as that of her character Lightning Girl. So
how
did they know? And why the heck hadn't they ever mentioned it to me?

“You've bought a house in Sweetbriar?” Grandpa just about choked on the words.

“Why, yes. Nothing too ostentatious, you understand.” Electra turned to me. “You know the old mansion up on Sweetbriar Mountain? I sign the papers tomorrow and it's all mine.”

“Wow,” I said, truly impressed. “That place is awesome.”

“Well, it needs a little work,” Electra admitted. “I plan to restore it to its former grandeur, the way it used to be in the old days.” She batted her eyes at Grandpa. “You remember, don't you, Zack?”

“Let me get this straight,” said Gran coolly. “You like the way my husband presses your pantsuits, so you're buying a mansion in Sweetbriar?”

Electra thought for a moment, then pursed her lips in a tight smile and nodded. “Mmm-hmmm. Pretty much.”

Gran's eyes narrowed to slits. “Lovely.”

She didn't sound as though she found it lovely in the least. I, on the other hand, could hardly imagine anything cooler. The creator of Lightning Girl was practically going to be my neighbor. Oh, man, did I wish I could tell her about my powers! I wished I could let her in on the fact that superheroes like LG didn't just exist in comics and that I just happened to be one. Maybe she'd want to hear all about my heroic adventures (once
I'd had some, that is) so she could use them in her comic books.

Too bad I had to keep my mouth shut.

I watched as Gran put all of Electra's gorgeous clothes into a nylon bag and printed out the slip indicating the day and time for pickup. After Electra had crooned “Ta-ta!” to all of us and made her exit, Gran tossed the bag over her shoulder. It landed on top of a high pile of other nylon bags.

“I've got something for you, Zoe,” she said.

She went into the back and returned with a dark garment bag, zipped up securely. Since cleaned clothing was generally returned to customers in clear plastic bags, I had a pretty good hunch what was inside.

I gasped. “My suit?”

“I put the finishing touches on it this morning,” said Gran, handing me the bag. “It's ready to be worn. All you have to do is put it in the backpack until you need it.”

“When will that be?” I asked in an excited breath.

Grandpa shrugged. “Could be any time.”

The bell on the door jangled and Emily bounded into the store.

“Hey,” I said. “Where's Caitlin?”

“Still shopping. Her aunt must give her a huge allowance. When I left, she was up to five tops, three pairs of jeans, and a beaded purse.” Emily shook her head. “Even I have to admit that's extreme.” She shrugged. “Let's go to your house and watch music videos.”

“Okay.” I kissed my grandparents good-bye, and Emily and I left.

“What's in the bag?” she asked as we rounded the corner of Main Street.

“A suit,” I said honestly. “A
business
suit.” Also true, since I'd be
wearing the suit to do my superhero job. I was pretty sure Emily would assume it was one of my father's work suits. We headed up the hill toward home.

Hugging the garment bag to me, I glanced over the roofs of the quaint downtown district and over the rolling hills toward Sweetbriar Mountain. There, sitting majestically atop it, was Electra Allbright's newly purchased home. It was huge—a little run-down, as she had said, but she was going to fix it up. As Em and I skipped along, I tried to imagine how it would look.

And then I tried to imagine myself, in my supersuit, soaring through the sky above that mansion, with the setting sun glinting in my hair…

… which was why I didn't see the iron lamppost ahead of me.

I skipped right into it!

“Zoe, are you all right?” Emily cried in a panic.

I couldn't blame her—I'd just crashed headfirst into a big old metal pole!

“I'm fine,” I said. There was a pretty good dent in the lamppost, though. Luckily, Emily didn't notice it; she was just relieved that I wasn't unconscious. So was I. I suppose all the superpowers in the world can't save a kid from being an out-and-out klutz every now and then.

Strangely, I was glad about that. It was nice to know I was still at least a little bit normal, even if I was a whole lot super!

and I made popcorn and watched about six million music videos before she had to go home for dinner.

BOOK: Totally Toxic
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