“This is a load of shit, Dennis,” I complained.

  “It isn’t, and language,” he snapped, pulling on his glove. “Your single PR appearance was your debut. Usually you’d be doing almost nothing but for at least a couple weeks, but obviously that wasn’t possible. Now...people already know you a bit, but you’ve got a bit of a reputation for being aggressive and violent. Your nomination isn’t public, but people know about Shatterbird and they know that Skitter was injured in her arrest; and your name comes up with both.”

  “I...didn’t know people were thinking of me,” I said honestly. “But like, do I really have to do this?”

  “If you want to keep your job and maybe show people you aren’t just the Wards’ attack dog,” Dennis said dryly, pulling on his hood and fixing his mask in place. Something must have showed on my face because he continued a moment later. “It’s not all bad, you’ve got fans and the Image team has been working on getting the word out about you helping in the hospital, with Behemoth. But uh, you might get some pretty uncomfortable questions, not gonna lie.”

  “I assume I don’t have to answer those ones?” He shook his head and I sighed. “Thank fuck they’re not getting up my ass to answer everything.”

  “I’ll have your back if they get pushy, and language,” Clockblocker stressed. “Look, I’m not saying this stuff for nothing. I got grilled by Image about everything I did for months. Every joke I told that was slightly too far, or just badly timed, was a lecture and a week of coaching. I want to save you from that, so watch your fucking language.” I snorted and pulled on my own hood and mask.

  “Copy all, captain,” I said, standing and rolling my shoulders. “So, what’s next?”

  Turned out it was an hour long briefing with the Image team, or at least their guy for public speaking. Clockblocker hadn’t been exaggerating; every little thing I said got some sort of comment, or look, or little huff of breath. By the end of it, I’d learned not to curse just from the threat of yet another hour with this guy.

  After that was a brief meeting with the woman who’d made my costume, Heidi she reintroduced herself. She took a few measurements and checked how the material was holding up. This was my third suit, the first had been disposed of in the wake of the Slaughterhouse Nine’s attack and the second after Echidna. Apparently satisfied, she led me to a seat in front of a mirror and collected a few bits from the counter.

  “Just going to give you a little makeup,” Heidi said, brandishing an eyeliner pen. “Nothing too heavy, but it’ll help make your eyes pop out from your bags. Have you been sleeping alright, Amaranth?”

  “No,” I scoffed, then considered it for more than a second. “Well, better lately, but not in general.”

  “Sucks,” she offered, stepping in front of me and leaning in. “Hold still okay? Don’t want to poke your eye.”

  “Do I really need make up?” I asked, moving my projection and fighting the urge to blink as the pen invaded my eyelid. “People can’t really see my face in this thing, by design. And I’m not much to look at anyway.” Despite wearing spandex, I really wasn’t showing off. Less in the future, if the sketches I had glimpsed in here were for my new look. Heidi clicked her tongue.

  “Your eyes are striking,” she countered. “And if you can work on that nasty glare, yes that one, I’m sure people are going to see the girl behind them soon enough.”

  “Sure, sure,” I grumbled, wincing as the pen poked me. “Don’t really need that from fans though.”

  “Why not?” Heidi sounded confused. “When I was your age I’d do anything to get popular.”

  “It’s...not my thing,” I said with a shrug.

  “Well look at it this way,” she said, capping the pen and putting her hands on her hips. “You get out there, look pretty, and answer those questions well and your merch will sell like hotcakes; and you get a cut of that.”

  “I have merch?”

  “You will,” she replied with a chuckle. “We’re still working up most of it, a little scrambled from everything, but I was hoping to show you the final stuff in a couple weeks.”

  “Cool,” I breathed. I wasn’t sure how to take in the idea that people would buy something with my ugly face plastered on it. “Guess you’re waiting on the new costume?”

  “Bingo,” Heidi said, sing-song. “But enough, no spoilers. I’ll see you next Wednesday for your consult, okay?”

  “Alright.” God, this shit was never going to end… “All done?” She nodded and I moved my projection back into place.

  “Smile a little huh?” she said as I headed to the door. “They’ll be able to see it in your eyes.” I gave her a nod, then left the room.

  I joined Clockblocker and headed up the hall. I knew where we were going next: the press room. Joy of joys, I had to get up in front of a bunch of people and tell them about myself. Already my costume was getting sticky and I could feel my heart beating faster. I tried to take deep breaths as we walked, reminding myself that I’d faced scarier things...probably.

  We entered the anteroom, and a PRT tech gave me a nod and a clipboard. Oh, they’d done at least some of the legwork for me. There was a seat layout, helpfully labelled with the groups who’d be asking questions. There were some people from the regular news outlets and stuff, local and a couple national. Another group was composed of a bunch of students of all ages, giving up their Sunday afternoon to come see me for some reason. Finally were just the regular randos, young and old, who’d signed up for a draw.

  This was going to suck, but it looked like the PRT had seeded some plants to softball me. Their seats were marked with numbers, which corresponded to questions at the bottom of the sheet. I studied them quietly, trying to ignore the sound of blood rushing in my ears. After a few minutes, Clockblocker patted my shoulder and gave me a nod, and the PRT tech gestured for me to head through the door. I clutched the clipboard tightly, swallowed hard, and went through before I could psyche myself out too badly.

  Director Higgins was already out there, smiling and clapping as he rose from his seat. I recalled at least some of the advice I’d been given and straightened up as best I could, offering a timid wave as I walked towards the chair, and the mics on the table in front of it. I sat down and blinked a drop of sweat from my eyes, staring out at a sea of unfamiliar faces. Wait, at the back I spotted Amy, standing with her arms crossed. She didn’t look too happy but...she offered a smile when I met her eyes, and I couldn’t help smiling back. I took a deep breath and turned my attention to the crowd.

  “Hello everyone,” I said, trying to project confidence into my voice like I’d been told. “It’s been a while, so let me reintroduce myself: my name is Amaranth, Brockton Bay’s rookie Ward. I know you guys have questions, so I won’t waste any time. Hands?” Every hand shot up and I suppressed a sigh, pointing to the easy softball to get things rolling.

  Just a basic question about my background. I explained I was a native here and so, when I gained powers, I felt the need to help; especially in the wake of Leviathan’s attack. Next I picked from one of the news guys from the local station. He asked if I’d gained my powers before or after the attack. When I answered before, he asked me if I joined in.

  “I did,” I answered. “That was my second day with powers, my first day going out in costume.” That drew a number of startled murmurs from the crowd and I winced. Shit, that was probably going to get me a lecture.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  The next one was about my powers themselves, from one of the students. I explained it as a forcefield around my body, one that was very difficult to break. That brought the inevitable comparison to Glory Girl, which I shot down with a shrug and a quip that I wasn’t part bird. That got a couple chuckles, but I saw an annoyed scowl cross Amy’s face. Okay no jokes about Vicky…

  Most of the questions were fairly benign. How many patrols, how many arrests, was I going to kill the Slaughterhouse Nine? Plenty, plenty, and maybe if they ever found them, though I gave a flat ‘no’ to it. I was pleasantly surprised with how things were going. No screw ups, no errant cursing to earn a lecture, there weren’t even any terribly prickly questions. I gestured to a girl with a pink baseball cap that read ‘PRESS’ in rhinestones and ten times more makeup on that I’d ever worn in my life.

  “Keeley Brooks, Arcadia Journal.” Oh shit she went to Arcadia? Wait, the school paper was still running? “Serious question that wants a serious answer Amaranth: do you have a boyfriend?” I couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped me, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle it.

  “Uh, no, I don’t,” I said after clearing my throat. Another hand shot up from a much chiller looking girl with a beanie and checkered jacket.

  “Miley Hansen, Arcadia GSA president. What about a girlfriend?” My gaze flicked to Amy involuntarily.

  “Yes,” I said flatly. When she tried to ask another question, I held up a hand to stop her. “And that’s all I’m saying about it.” There was a moment of awkward silence. I looked up at Amy and saw her give me a brief nod, then felt my shoulders relax; we were on the same page about our relationship in costume.

  Fortunately the rest of the questions weren’t so bad. They asked about me fighting the Nine, especially Shatterbird since I’d been the one to kill her. It was fair, though I was almost certainly getting a lecture about how sharply I answered them. I could deal with that, it probably wouldn’t be so bad since mostly things had gone well. Clockblocker didn’t even need to intervene, though the director did when people asked about the fight against Behemoth. I could only say that I helped in the field hospital.

  Finally, mercifully, the press conference ended and I was allowed to walk off the stage on shaky legs. I sat in the anteroom and grabbed a paper towel, mopping my face and wiping under my mask and hood. Eugh, I felt gross. I needed a shower or three...and I’d probably panic the whole time, god dammit. I couldn’t believe Leviathan had been enough to give me apparent hydrophobia, I hadn’t even been hurt that badly in the end.

  “Well,” Clockblocker said, sitting next to me. “That could have gone worse. Good save with the girlfriend thing.”

  “It’s gonna earn me a lecture isn’t it?”

  “A little one, maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But it went a lot better than my first Q&A, no dick jokes for example.”

  “Not exactly my speed.”

  “No pussy jokes?” I snorted and gave him a nod.

  “Well that was utterly horrifying,” I bantered, shooting Clockblocker a look. “When’s the next one?”

  “Now flex!” the photographer, Quique he’d introduced himself, exclaimed.

  “I don’t have any muscles,” I groaned. “And there’s no way they’d show through my costume anyway.”

  “You’d be surprised, now flex.”

  I rolled my eyes and did, shifting my hand a little higher on my hip. We’d been doing this for what felt like an hour now, and I was getting irritated to say the least. Quique was picky, micromanaging my poses, making minute adjustments to the lighting constantly. He’d instructed me through a bunch of poses, each one making me feel stupider than the last.

  “Lord girl, don’t you smile?” he complained lightly, the shutter of his camera clicking rapidly. “Come on, the camera sees it in your eyes.”

  “I’m tired,” I said simply.

  “Want a break?” he asked. “We only have this pose and your portrait to do, but if you can’t stick it out…”

  “Let’s just get it over with,” I grumbled, forcing a smile as best I could.

  At least he was true to his word. After another ten minutes of finagling the angle and ‘hero’ pose he wanted, he brought over a chair and let me sit while he set up a background. I tapped my foot impatiently. This was my last thing of the day, then I finally got some time to myself at a reasonable hour. Or rather, I’d get some time with my girlfriend.

  We’d both been busy all week, but finally we’d caught a break and I was coming over. It was her last week at the headquarters, which kind of sucked since it meant I’d have to travel to hang out in the future. At the same time, it was fantastic because I didn’t have to be here. Looking forward to tonight, I was able to give Quique a genuine smile when he asked for it.

  “Perfect,” he said after a dozen clicks of his camera. He walked over to his computer and gave a nod. “Perfect, really. You’re all done Amaranth.”

  “Awesome,” I said, standing quick enough to make myself dizzy. I wobbled, but quickly recovered. “Am I good to go then?”

  “Sure are,” he replied. “Look forward to seeing your face posted everywhere the next few weeks, huh?”

  That got a groan from me and I was chased out by the sound of his laughter. I didn’t mind him, but he was way too high-energy for me to deal with regularly. With any luck, I wouldn’t have to for a while. I glanced down at my gloves as I walked, admiring the additions they’d made. A knuckle plate that protruded far enough to stick out of my projection. Detachable too, in case I flinched and tore my gloves.

  Finally, the strikes I’d learned would come in handy. I tried a couple jabs in the elevator. I was actually looking forward to trying them out fighting bad guys, a weird feeling. Made sense considering how much uglier things were getting in the contested east of the city. The south wasn’t much better, but the Pure and their allies weren’t so keen on lynchings.

  There was some progress. Rune had been taken into custody the other day, then shipped out of the city so her Nazi comrades didn’t break her out. Of course that progress had only come from the fucking Undersiders, who were doing better at beating back the other gangs than we were. I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to just leave it. They were getting dealt with one way or another, that was what mattered.

  I almost had myself convinced by the time I got out of the shower and started getting ready for my date.

  “Sorry,” Amy apologized as we waited for the bus.

  “For what?” I asked, confused.

  “Um, waking you up this morning with...yeah.” Her gaze was fixed firmly on the pavement.

  “Amy, I’ve woken up screaming more times than I can count in the last month,” I said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tight so she could see I was being genuine. “I’m not upset about getting woken up by you, I’m not upset that I have to comfort you when you have nightmares. We’re in the same boat, and you’ve helped me with it plenty of times.” I stretched up and kissed her cheek. “I just hope me being there helped.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed, leaning against me. “I think it did. Thanks Lia for...just thanks.”

  “Welcome,” I said as the bus arrived.

  A sigh escaped my lips as we took our seats and I leaned on Amy as the bus rattled off. Fridays had become the worst for me, with a patrol scheduled right after school since last week and for the foreseeable future. I talked Miss Flowers into letting me get any help I needed during lunch instead. She was actually kind of cool.

  Somehow, despite my fears, I was actually doing okay in the accelerated program they were running us through. Of course that was only because I had help from my teachers and Amy, who was a hell of a better student than I was. Thanks to them, I was on track to continue through school and graduate on time.

  It still felt like something of a waste. Surely right now we needed heroes on the streets more than some extra time in class. Just because things were better than they’d been a month ago didn’t mean they weren’t still bad. I forced myself to take a deep breath and tried to let it go. Things were bad but the Protectorate was doing their damndest to make them better and it really wouldn’t be that long before I was joining them.

  Did I even want to though, with the way they were handling things? Sure they were helping where they could, but it wasn’t effective. New Wave was doing more, but they were mostly sticking to the blocks around their home. At least they were fighting the Undersiders, more people that didn’t agree with the truce.

  “Hey, we’re here,” Amy said, bumping her shoulder against mine.

  I started and rose from my seat, quickly getting out of her way and off the bus. She joined me a second later and grabbed my hand, offering a small smile. I grinned back and started walking into the school as the first bell rang for class. Hopefully today would be—

  “Fucking dykes.”

  I stopped so fast I nearly fell over. My hand fell away from Amy’s and I whipped around, heart hammering in my chest. A tall, skinny blonde wearing the shit-eatingest grin I’d ever seen outside Tattletale’s ugly mug. He stood head and shoulders above me, flanked by a weaselly kid with acne and glasses and a bruiser with more muscles than brains or looks. Blondie's icy blue eyes met mine and I felt my blood boil.

  “What?” I spat.

  “Lia don—”

  “I said, ‘fucking dykes’,” he repeated. “Disgusting they let fish-eaters like you go here.”

  His nose broke with an audible, satisfying ‘crunch’ and he let out a yelp. I grabbed his collar and drove an unshielded knee into his groin, finally startling the bruiser into motion. He moved quicker than I thought he’d be able, but he didn’t bother defending himself; no brains. I ducked under his grab and grabbed the meat of his thigh, squeezing until I felt the muscles convulse and he toppled over. I whirled towards another shout and saw the school’s security running over. I glanced at the two fallen dipshits and sighed.

  Today was going to be a long day.