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“You can’t even pretend to think any other position on earth is as good as Hero status.”
He shrugs. “I’m fond of Research. Besides, you spent your whole life training for Hero. They won’t give you anything else.” I recognize the tone of his voice. It’s the same I feel sorry for you tone Max has perfected. “Try not to worry about it,” he continues. “I know you want to be a Hero, but you don’t have to be one.”
I scowl at this asinine remark, but he’s right. As the president’s daughter, I don’t have to do anything. Most Supers get married and work jobs in King City and have lives that are pretty much like the humans. Although all of the Super presidents have been Heroes, none of the former president’s chose the same profession. It would be easy, expected even, for me to just start a charity for humans and look pretty as I attend humanitarian events as a cherished member of the Super race.
There’s nothing wrong with that exactly … it’s just not me.
I swallow and a teardrop pools in the corner of my eye. I hold my gaze, staring into the nothingness to the left of Evan’s shoulder because I know the second I blink, that tear will roll down my cheek.
Evan shifts on his feet. “You’re only qualified for Hero. Or maybe Retriever. Try not to worry about it, it’s not like you’ll end up in food service.”
“That’s just it.” My voice is scratchy. “Hero. Retriever.” I hold up my left hand and then my right one. “I’m scared, Evan. What if they make me Retriever? I can’t stand waiting for an answer.” My teeth grind together. “The anticipation is killing me.”
His eyes light up. “You should see Pepper.”
“Pepper? I don’t—why?”
Evan’s tongue runs across his bottom lip as he breaks into a smile. His blue eyes shine like a child’s on the cover of a Christmas movie. “Think about it. Pepper needs a few days to design new Hero suits, right? He makes them all fancy and high tech compared to regular suits.”
“Okay …” I say, still not understanding.
He shoves my shoulder. “Go see Pepper. Act like you’re just dropping by for a visit. If the examiners are making you Hero then they would have told him so he can make your suit. You know how Pepper loves to talk. He’ll blab. Whatever he knows, he’ll tell you.”
“You’re a genius.” My hands clasp in front of my chest and it’s all I can do not to jump in the air and scream like a maniac. “A freaking brilliant genius.” I bob up and down on the balls of my feet, using all the strength I have to keep myself from running to Pepper’s without thanking Evan for his help. “This is the best idea ever. Thank you, Evan.” My arms wrap around his neck in what’s supposed to be a hug. But before I realize what I’m doing, my lips place a kiss on his cheek.
His skin warms beneath my lips.
Pepper’s studio is to the right when I exit the KAPOW. It’s so flashy you can see it from five minutes away. Two purple-flamed torches light either side of the door along with the word PEPPER in five-foot-tall neon letters.
A laser beam shoots out from the floor as I approach the metal double doors to Pepper’s studio. It flattens along the floor and zooms up my body and then back down before retreating into the floor. The doors swing open without making a sound, despite them being at least three times as tall as I am and twice as thick.
Pepper swooshes into view, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. He’s a tall black man, with shoulders twice as wide as Max’s, and that’s saying a lot because my brother is often talked about for his muscular size. He wears a fitted suit in the most beautiful opalescence fabric that shimmers in his studio’s bright lighting. The pants are a shiny black at the bottom that slowly morphs into a deep royal purple at the top of his shoulders.
As he moves, the fabric colors shift in the light, seemingly moving up and down like oil on water. It’s just an illusion but it makes me want to reach out and touch it anyhow. A tiny white Chihuahua with long legs dances around Pepper’s feet, eager to join in on the fun he thinks we’re having. His name is Chewy and I’m relieved to see he’s finally over his habit of biting feet.
“Maci,” Pepper says. His upper lip twitches in—disgust?—before his mouth bends into a warm smile. “It’s so lovely to see you.”
What was that? Did I imagine it? Pepper likes me, or so I’ve always thought. He and my mother were childhood best friends. Maybe his lips twitched like that because he was expecting someone else. Maybe he has a headache or something.
Ugh, what am I talking about? Supers don’t get headaches. It must be me. I’m the one who made his mouth twitch. He doesn’t want to see me. He thinks I’m evil.
Screw him! He doesn’t know anything!
My teeth grind together as I plaster a smile on my face. “Hello.”
Pepper sweeps out his hand, motioning for me to enter. “Did you have an appointment? I wasn’t expecting anyone until later.”
Chewy sniffs my ankles. “Um, no.”
Pepper’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “No worries, hun. You’re welcome to stop by any time. If you had an appointment I was about to question my sanity because I swear I cleared my schedule this morning.”
He gives me a smile filled with submersed tension again. “Would you like a latté?”
I accept his offer because the last time I didn’t, I got a five-minute lecture on how his coffee maker was imported from the finest shop in Brazil and that not accepting a latté of this magnitude is equal to turning down a free bag of thousand dollar bills.
He smiles in approval and Chewy follows him to the back room. Okay, he doesn’t sound like he’s feigning niceness toward me. As a suit designer, he wouldn’t have taken classes on deception like I have for Hero training. I force the anger inside of me to retreat; he wasn’t giving me a look when I got here, he was just caught off guard by unexpected company. I take in a deep breath. Calm down, Maci. Everyone is not out to get me.
As Pepper fetches my fancy foreign caffeine, I look around the studio hoping to find something that would enlighten me to why he’s acting so weird. The onl
