Ch. 12 Week 10

Lawrence lingered after their Thursday class with Romeo Avenger, waiting until the gym had emptied entirely. He’d spent a good portion of the afternoon in the back of Lola’s car again, and he was starting to feel guilty. “Can I ask for some advice?” he asked his teacher.

“What’s up KP?” Romeo asked, glancing at the door.

Lawrence talked fast, seeing that Romeo wanted to get out of there. “I was just wondering--women really like you.”

“I know.” Romeo flashed him a smile he didn’t really want to analyze.

“So I guess what I’m asking is, well, do you have like, a secret identity girlfriend and a super hero girlfriend? I mean, can that work?”

Romeo grinned at him. “I see. Good for you kid!”

“I’m not feeling very good about it,” Lawrence said. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but--”

“You have a rare opportunity,” Romeo said. “It is socially acceptable for you to live a double life--not many guys get that option. No one will get hurt as long as you keep your two identities separate. Those are the rules anyway.”

“So it’s okay?”

“Of course.”

“You’re sure.”

“Absolutely.”

“Great,” Lawrence said, not feeling any better. “Thanks.”

He followed Romeo Avenger out of the gym, so he got a full view of Cloud flying (literally) into Romeo’s arms, the two embracing in a kiss that, after about thirty seconds, became very uncomfortable to watch. Lawrence waited for them to finish and unblock the doorway. “Cheers,” Romeo said to Lawrence, and walked down the hall with his arm around Cloud’s waist.

Lawrence had a vague feeling of disapproval, and what did that mean in relation to his behavior? He caught sight of Torch in the hall, watching the couple as well. His face was twisted up into an expression of disgust. “I know what you mean,” Lawrence said, realizing that he needed to do the exact opposite of anything Romeo tells him in relation to women.

America or Lola. He couldn’t have both.

*****

Lola was watching the news that evening when Lawrence called her. “What’s up?” she asked, only half listening as she caught a news item. The chief of police would be holding a live press conference on Monday to address the Dark Lothario problem. The idea sparked through her braid so quickly she barely heard what Lawrence was saying to her. “…so I don’t think we should, you know, fool around anymore…”

“Why?” There was nothing like a live press conference to show people you mean business--to prove to them you were worthy to get into their silly little super villain club.

“I just--I just want to be friends.”

Lola’s fantasies of making the chief of police bark like a dog died as she realized what Lawrence was saying. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“We weren’t really dating, were we?”

“I paid for dinner,” Lola said, feeling dumb. No one had ever had the gall to break up with her before. “Look, can’t we talk about this?”

“No, Lola, I’m sorry. You’re a really great girl and I hope we can still be friends.”

“Friends.” She felt a cold weight settle into her chest. How could anyone say that? She had never understood the concept. Why would she want to be friends with someone who didn’t want to date her anymore. “Great. Sure.” She hung up the phone and tossed it to the other side of the couch. I should march over to his dorm room right now and make him change his mind, she thought. It would serve him right.

She glanced at the television, the newscast now covering a robbery that had been committed by a gang of mimes. “I bet they’re allowed in the club,” she said to herself. She wasn’t sure what she should do. Sit there and cry? Or do something constructive? One of the mimes had been captured and he was speaking to the reporter in sign language, explaining that he worked for the Silent Rogue.

She retrieved her phone and dialed Hannah. She needed exposure if she was going to get anywhere in this city.

*****

Glory sat cross-legged on her bed with her math book, not wanting to concentrate on school. What was the point of going to college when she was going to be a super hero anyway? Wasn’t truth, justice, and the American way more important than Algebra? “Hey Glory,” Lola’s voice called through the door, “I’m going out for a while. Don’t wait up.”

“Out with your boyfriend?” Glory answered in a sing-song voice. When Lola didn’t respond Glory shrugged and got up to stretch. Math was exhausting. She needed brain food if she was going to get anything done.

In the kitchen Glory dug around in the fridge for something interesting but settled for a grilled cheese sandwich. While she was cooking she noticed a burning smell. But it wasn’t coming from her pan. “What the--” Glory looked out the window and saw a column of smoke rising into the sky. It looked like it was only a few blocks away.

She turned off her pan immediately and was already pulling off her shirt and feeling in her drawer for her costume before she stopped herself. She wasn’t supposed to fight crime on her own.

But its not crime--it’s a fire. Someone might need my help. And helping people was more important than the rules.

She flew down the street at her top speed, skidding to a halt at the burning house three blocks away. She’d passed it before and knew it was empty. She had always thought it looked sad with its peeling paint and boarded up windows, but now great orange flames were shooting out of gaping black holes, and everything was so bright and so hot….

Fire trucks were just pulling up as she arrived, and in the ensuing bustle she almost didn’t notice the small huddled figure on the grass in front of the building. Glory recognized Torch’s black fire-resistant suit immediately, and it didn’t take long to figure out what had happened. She hurried to his side. “Torch?” He looked up and she faltered. He wasn’t wearing his mask. They weren’t supposed to see each other without their masks.

Probably realizing the same thing he ducked his head again. “To hell with it,” she said, feeling fierce. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no,” he managed to sputter, still hiding his face.

“C’mon. We have to get you out of here before people start asking questions.”

All of the neighbors were out in their yards watching the carnage, and someone shouted as they moved out of the yard of the burning house, but Glory didn’t stop moving, picking up speed until her velocity was carrying Torch along with her. He didn’t weigh much, and soon they were flying though the streets back to her apartment. Glory didn’t even muse on this handy new aspect of her super-speed, not even once she had him deposited on the couch in the living room.

“I-I shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“Get over it,” Glory said. “Are you sure you’re okay? You should go to the hospital. You might have smoke inhalation or something.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. She got him a glass of water and he tried to hide his face in his arm when she handed it to him. She noticed a shiny burn scar across his cheek, usually covered by his mask.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, and disappeared into her room, returning with her old pink mask.

He slipped it on. “Thank you,” he said, finally looking at her.

“What happened?”

“I…got upset.”

“Obviously. What on earth were you doing in that crummy old house?”

“Staying there.”

“What?”

“I c-can’t go to school,” he said simply. “It’s too difficult. So no scholarship for me.”

“So the league just dumped you on the streets?”

“No one offered anything better.”

“I’m calling KP,” Glory said, reaching for her phone. “This is absolutely ridiculous. The league doesn’t give us important medical information, they leave you to starve on the streets--what the hell is wrong with this program?”

“America, I’m f-fine. D-don’t call anyone. I’m okay.”

“Like hell you are.”

“We’re in enough trouble as it is.”

“I don’t care. If the League doesn’t want to take care of you, that’s fine. But we’re your friends, Torch. We’re going to take care of you.”

****

Lola explained to her minions exactly what she wanted to do at the press conference from behind her desk, but the two were less than enthusiastic. “It’s not that it isn’t a cool idea Boss,” Hannah said. “But I don’t think we really have the man-power to take on the entire police department.” Kioshi glanced at Hannah and gave a small, apologetic nod.

“I can have the entire room incapacitated with a few words,” Lola said, feeling contrary. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

“Have you ever tried to control that many people at once?” Kioshi asked.

“I can do it,” Lola snapped. She had no idea how many people she could control at once.

“All I’m saying,” Hannah said, “is that if you really want to do this, I think we’re going to have to bring out the big guns. Literally.”

Lola frowned. She couldn’t think of how she could scrounge up any guns on such a short notice. She didn’t like guns as a rule, but at the same time, Hannah made sense. She was hardly going to throw common sense to the wind just because she’d been dumped. “And if I can get you these big guns?” Lola asked.

“I’ll do it,” Kioshi said.

“Me too.” Hannah agreed, but turned to Kioshi. “Have you ever shot a gun?” she asked in a mock whisper.

“No,” he answered back.

“I’m right here,” Lola snapped, annoyed.

“We know,” Hannah said. “Just to check, when we’re arrested, you can post bail and get us a good lawyer, right?”

Lola leaned back in her chair with a groan and stared up at the ceiling. “Next time I need minions I’m going for brainwashed drones.”

“We love you too Boss,” Hannah said, getting up with a bounce. “Make sure my gun is very big. Something…intimidating.”

“Of course.” She slumped in her chair as they left, sighing. That was supposed to go better, she thought. She wasn’t sure what came next. Why did he break up with me? Men love me. It didn’t make sense. She threw herself out of her chair and slammed out of her lair.

It was cold in the middle of the night, so Lola walked quickly to keep warm, the thick high heels of her boots thudding on the sidewalk. She found herself back at the red door. She pounded on it with her flat palm, slapping the door. “Daffodil, damn you,” she cried. “I want in.” The voice on the other end of the intercom didn’t even give her a reply.

“Dammit.”

“Hey, Tits.” Lola recognized the voice. She found Ratface sitting on an empty milk crate behind a garbage can playing a handheld video game.

“Are you always here?” she asked. “And my name isn’t ‘tits’ thank you very much.”

“Nearly always. I can see they’re not letting you in yet.”

“All in good time. Hey--” she said, hoping but not expecting him to be any help. “Do you now where I can get big guns? I need big guns.”

He turned off his game and stashed it in his jacket before standing up. “You say ‘big guns’ like you’re afraid of them.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets, making it obvious that he wanted her to see the handgun tucked into his belt as his clothing shifted. “You claim to be some sort of big bad. So what are you afraid of guns for?”

“I’ve never needed them,” she admitted, staring at his hip where the gun was again concealed by his jacket. She really didn’t like guns.

Ratface laughed out loud. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you? What are you?”

At that moment it occurred to her that Ratface was not a college student or an engineer. He was a real criminal, and she and her minions, they were just playing like they knew what they were doing. He might be scruffy and odd-looking, but he knew things they didn’t, had done things she could hardly imagine. She was sure he had used that gun. It scared her, and it made her realize what an idiot she had been.

“Are you still looking for a job?” she asked.

“Depends. What do you do, exactly?”

“I make people do what I want them to do.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Jump,” she commanded, and he did. “Smack yourself in the face.” The slap seemed to echo through the alley.

“Ow,” he complained, rubbing his cheek.

“Again--harder.” Ratface complied, wincing even as he did it. This is a wonderful stress reliever. Lola thought.

“Okay, I believe you,” Ratface cried. “So what do you want from me?”

“You’re right. I’m not a criminal,” she said. “I don’t know how to be and neither do my minions. You know. I can tell.”

“And it’s a paying gig?”

“Absolutely.”

“Benefits?”

“You mean like health insurance?”

“Bail, lawyers, that kind of thing. I won’t be thrown to the dogs on you’re your payroll.” The sound of his voice suggested that it might have happened before.

“Of course. But I’d rather none of us got caught. I’m too pretty for prison, though I’m sure I could sway a jury fairly easily.”

“You got it Boss. So what did you need again? Guns?”

“Big guns.”

He laughed. “Sure.”

“By Monday.”

“Doable if you have access to a large amount of cash.” She nodded. “What happens Monday?”

She smiled, her earlier glee returning and Lawrence slipping from her mind for the moment. “I’m going to make the chief of police bark like a dog.”

Ratface threw back his head and laughed. “I think I like you.”

******

Lawrence stretched out on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, a sick feeling in his gut. Dumping Lola was the right thing to do. He knew that. But it didn’t feel right. It felt like he had been on the verge of exploring a new world, but instead he turned around and ran back home. His cell phone rang and afraid that it might be Lola, he almost didn’t answer it. When he saw America’s name on the caller ID, he felt even worse, but he answered.

“You need to come over to my place,” she said before even saying hello, her voice rushing. “Torch is in trouble.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, sitting up, forgetting his guilt. “Is he hurt?”

“No, it’s just…bad.”

She hung up before he could get anything else out of her, and he called her back as he got up and shoved his feet into shoes. “America? Where do you live?”

A few minutes later he pulled his truck up in front of a rambling Victorian house a couple miles from campus. America and Torch were sitting on the front steps, both in their costumes, except Torch was wearing a sparkly pink mask. “What happened?” he demanded, and America told him about the fire in rushed tones.

“…So Torch needs a place to stay,” she finished quickly.

“I don’t,” he protested. “I can f-find another abandoned house--it’s no big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal,” America said.

“She’s right,” Lawrence said before Torch could protest again. “You need a real place to live.” He took a deep breath, not sure if what he was going to say next was the best thing for him, but he knew it was for Torch. “I have an empty bed in my dorm room. You can come stay with me.”

Torch shook his head so hard his hair flew around him. “I can’t--I can’t do that. I can’t control what happens in my dreams--I could catch the whole dorm on fire. I can’t have so many lives in my hands like th-that.”

Lawrence considered this. “What if we went back to Mim, the costume woman? She could make like, a sleeping bag or something out of that fire resistant material.”

America beamed. “That would be perfect!”

Torch stared at them. “Wh-what about the rules? What about the fact that we’re n-not supposed to know about each other?”

“You shouldn’t have to be alone,” Lawrence said. “We don’t have to tell each other our names if you don’t want to. Hell, if you want to wear a mask all the time, I won’t stop you either. Just let us help you.”

Torch sighed. “You-you won’t take n-no for an answer, will you?”

“Absolutely not,” America replied for Lawrence. He nodded.

“Okay.” Torch said finally.

America hugged him, then jumped up and hugged Lawrence. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck briefly, feeling like he had made the right decision after all.

*****

A/N:
Is it spring yet? Been snowed in all week, and so bored I couldn't barely do more than stare at the TV.