“Okay,” I announced, decision finally made. “What time?”
Chapter 9
Electra was practically euphoric when I finally agreed to dinner. We spent a few more minutes talking as she gave me the details, and for a brief span it was almost like we were a couple again: laughing, joking, excitedly discussing our plans for later… In short, I hated to get off the phone with her, but we both had other things we needed to do.
Afterwards, I teleported into the penthouse, appearing in the living room. Smokey was nearby, sitting on a couch and watching television.
“There you are,” he said, grabbing the remote and muting the TV. “I’m guessing you had to scramble and write your paper at the last minute.”
“Something like that,” I confessed, not wanting to admit having to deliver it personally since it was handwritten.
Smokey laughed at that, easily reading between the lines. “What did Mouse say about it?”
“Ten points off. Twenty next time, although I wasn’t sure if he was joking.”
Smokey chuckled again. “See, if you had typed it on your laptop, like me, you could have just emailed it in.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” I said. “So, how was the workout? I’m sure you got to ogle my cousin to your heart’s delight.”
Smokey shook his head emphatically. “First of all, your cousin can, like, bench press a building, so she and I are on way different levels in terms of routine. Basically, she gave me a few pointers, then dropped me off at some private gym where she got them to give me guest privileges, while she went somewhere else.”
“Probably A-List HQ,” I suggested. “Like the Alpha League, they have specialized workout equipment for people who can deadlift a battleship.”
“That’s probably right,” Smokey concurred. “Anyway, she scooped me up a short time later and dropped me back off here. She then said she had some stuff to do and took off, and I took a quick shower to get ready for brunch.”
I spent a moment debating whether I should shower again as well. However, I’d only been flying (and had been phased most of the time, only occasionally becoming substantial to feel the wind cascade over me), so I hadn’t worked up a sweat. Bearing that in mind, I assumed I was passable with respect to brunch.
“That reminds me,” I said. “I don’t think either of us knows where we’re going.”
“Knowing the destination would be helpful,” Smokey quipped as I pulled out my phone and called Vestibule.
I wasn’t sure if she was expecting my call, but she answered on the first ring. Putting her on speakerphone, I explained that we lacked Cat’s address, which caused her to snicker.
“Don’t worry about it,” she assured me. “We’re coming to you, so be ready in ten. And pack your swimming trunks.”
With that, she hung up.
“Well,” Smokey droned. “Problem solved.”
“Apparently,” I agreed, then noticed something on an end table next to the sofa. Pointing, I asked, “What’s that?”
“Oh,” Smokey said, grabbing the item – a section of newspaper – from the table. “Check this out.”
He opened up the paper and I realized that it was some sort of gossip segment. There were pictures of celebrities on almost every page, including a few we’d spoken to the night before. And then I saw it: a full-color photo of Vestibule, me, Cat, and Smokey, all in our costumes.
Obviously, it had been taken the night before – most likely at one of the parties we attended. I’d known there were photographers at each event – it was par for the course with respect to those types of parties – but it hadn’t really occurred to me that anyone would find us newsworthy.
“So what do you think?” Smokey asked.
“It looks like someone is doing a remake of The Wizard of Oz, but never read the book,” I quipped.
Smokey laughed. “I thought something along those lines myself. At least whoever wrote the caption was more tactful.”
He pointed to the passage below the picture, which read:
Superhero/model Vestibule and friends hitting the town.
“Where’d you get this?” I inquired.
“Someone left it at the gym,” he answered. “The trainer working with me said it was okay to take it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Trainer?”
Smokey shrugged. “Avis told them I was a friend and to take good care of me. Almost everybody in that place had a personal trainer – probably included in the membership fee.”
“Well, at least now I know what Electra was talking about,” I said as I turned my attention back to the photo. Presumably this was the pic she had been referring to during that first phone call. Looking at it now, with Vestibule and me in matching costumes, I could see how someone might get the idea that we were a couple.
“You spoke to Electra?” Smokey asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, then recounted our initial conversation. When I was done, he looked at me slightly askance.
“Are you really saying you don’t understand why she was upset?” he asked.
“She wasn’t being fair,” I insisted, “and even she admits that.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” Smokey countered. “But just think about it from her point of view for a second. Vestibule made no secret of wanting to date you, and on at least two occasions she publicly shoved her tongue down your throat. Then, just a few weeks after Electra breaks up with you, you’re painting the town red with her romantic rival. To the rest of the world, it looks like Vestibule stole you from her.”
“Okay, that’s ridiculous,” I stated firmly. “Nobody stole anything, and Vestibule and I are just friends.”
“Would it sound ridiculous to you if people started saying that Dynamo stole Electra from you?”
“What?” I almost screeched. “Is that what people are saying?”
“Well, it would be easy to see how they’d get that idea, right? He’s
