Ill be there. Yes- I saw a light in the living room window and put my hand over the lower half of my cell phone while I briefly investigated. Damn, my dad was home. I put the phone to my ear, Im sorry, Ive got to run. No. No. Look-

As I heard the front door open, I snapped the phone shut and jammed it into my pocket. Id apologize for hanging up later. I definitely didnt want my dad to see the phone. I didnt think he would stop me from owning one, but ever since my moms death, cell phones had carried strong negative connotations. That, and Id have to explain where I got it and how Id paid for it.

Brian had given me three identical cell phones all disposables first thing in the morning, and Id decided to go with him to the loft rather than head to school. The way I figured it, I didnt have much of a chance of focusing on classes with Thursdays bank robbery occupying my attention on top of the stress of just being there and waiting for the other shoe to drop as far as my skipped classes. Besides, I rationalized, it didnt make a lot of sense to go if I knew I would be skipping again to go rob the bank. Id promised myself I would go the day after tomorrow. Face the music.

Id spent the day with the group. Rachel had been out of the apartment, the others werent specific on why and I wasnt interested enough to risk looking too curious by asking. So it had just been me, Brian, Alec and Lisa. Wed hammered out the fine details of the robbery and I had decided what weapons I wanted Lisa to ask the boss for. I had elected for both a combat knife and a telescoping police baton. The knife would serve for emergencies and those people who were just too tough to hurt with the baton. The baton, twenty one inches long when fully extended, was for more general use, offering more clout than Id otherwise get with my fists. Lisa had promised I would have them for tomorrow.

After that, we kind of avoided the subject of the robbery, by some unspoken agreement. It wouldnt do to overthink it or risk getting too nervous. Either way, I had felt a need to burn some nervous energy, so I had helped clear out the storage closet around lunchtime, with Lisa and Brians help. Wed sorted out the stuff, found a place for it all, and set up the room with odds and ends they had lying around. The stuff included an extendable clothes rack, a dresser, an inflatable mattress and a bedside table with a lamp attached. It was enough space for me to keep some toiletries, a spare change of clothes or two, my costume and my equipment. Lisa spent a lot of time talking about what I could do to make the space my own, what I could buy, how I could decorate, but I was happy enough with what we had there. I kind of liked that it was a bit spartan, because it sort of fit with how I didnt plan to be around that long while still feeling weirdly appreciative at being accepted as a part of the group.

Having tired ourselves out, wed all collapsed on the couches and watched some of Alecs movies from Earth-Aleph, the alternate Earth that our Earth had been communicating with since Professor Haywire tore a hole between realities. Media was one of the few things that could be traded back and forth through the hole. Long story short, you could get books, movies and DVDs of TV shows from the other world, if you were willing to accept the price tag. The benefit? I got to spend the afternoon seeing how the other universe had handled episodes one and two of the Star Wars films.

Fact: they were still pretty disappointing.

By the time my dad got in, I had pork chops defrosted, dusted with lemon and pepper and sitting in a frying pan, with vegetables in the microwave. Cooking was sort of something you started doing when you had only one parent, unless you really, really liked takeout.

Heya, my dad greeted me, Smells good.

I started dinner a bit early because I have somewhere I want to be, tonight, If thats cool?

He tried to hide it, but I could see a bit of disappointment. Of course, he said, Your new friends?

I nodded.

Let me get changed and then Ill ask you all about them, he promised as he headed upstairs.

Great. I hadnt had to answer these questions last night because my dad had been working late. My mind started racing to anticipate questions and come up with plausible details. Should I use their real names? Or at least, the names they had given me? I wasnt sure if that would be a breach of trust. I decided to use their real names for much the same reason Id decided to use my own with them. It just prevented disasters if my dad ever happened to meet them, which was a terrifying thought, or if they called for me.

I didnt need to worry about my dad hearing about four kids being arrested, all of whom had the same name as my friends, since most or all of them were minors and their names would be kept from the media under the law. I was also under the impression that the courts didnt always unmask capes when they arrested them. I wasnt entirely sure what was up with that. It seemed like something to ask Lisa about.

By the time my dad had come back downstairs, Id resolved to try and keep my lies as close to the truth as possible. It would be easiest to keep everything straight that way. That, and I hated lying to my dad.

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My dad had changed out of his dress shirt and khakis, into a t-shirt and jeans. He mussed up my hair and then took over the last bit of the cooking. I sat down at the table so I could talk to him.

So whats going on? he asked.

I shrugged. I hated feeling this tense around my dad. Hed never bugged me about the bullying, so Id always been able to come home and sort of let my guard drop. I couldnt do that now, because I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop as far as my skipped classes, and my new friends brought a whole mess of secrets and lies into the mix as well. I felt like I was on the verge of a terminal breach of trust. One mistake or a single concerned phone call from the school, and my dad would probably flip, and things wouldnt be the same between us for a long time.

Are you going to tell me their names? he asked. He set the food on plates and brought it to the table.

Brian, Lisa, Alec, Rachel, I confessed, Theyre alright. Get along with most of them.

Where did you meet them? School?

I shook my head, I wanted to get away from school for a bit, so I caught a bus downtown to catch a bit of a break. I ran into them at the library. Partial truths. You couldnt really catch a bus downtown and back during the lunch break Id tried, when I was avoiding the trio but I doubted my dad would research that. I did sort of cross paths with the Undersiders at the library, though.

They go to the library at lunch? What are they like?

Brians pretty cool. Hes the one Ive talked to the most.

A boy, eh? My dad wiggled his eyebrows at me.

Dad, stop! Its not like that, I protested. I doubted Brian had the slightest interest in me, not least because I was two or three years younger than him. Besides, well, I was me. I opted not to mention the age difference to my dad.

Changing the subject, I said, Lisas alright too. Really smart, though I havent talked to her all that much. Its nice being able to hang out with another girl again, even if shes pretty different from me.

If shes smart, she cant be that much different from you.

I couldve kicked myself. I couldnt explain she was a bad guy, while I was an aspiring superhero, or exactly how she was smart. Id talked myself into a minor corner where I didnt have an answer ready, and I needed to avoid doing that. Fumbling for an answer, I said, Shes only a year older than me, and shes graduated high school already. That was the truth. She cheated, but she did technically graduate.

My dad smiled, Impressive. Tell me theyre all excellent students that can serve as good role models for you.

I could have choked. Good role models? Them? I kept my composure and limited myself to a little smile and a shake of the head, Sorry.

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Alas. What about the others?

Alec is the youngest, I think. Kinda hard to connect with. Hes an amazing artist, from what Ive seen, but I dont really see him draw. It seems kind of hard to get him interested or involved in anything. He always looks bored. As I said the words aloud, I realized they werent exactly true. The two times Id seen Alec react to anything had been when hed played his little prank on Brian, tripping him, and after Bitch and I had been fighting. A streak of schadenfreude to his personality, maybe.

And the last one? Rita? Rachel?

Yeah, Rachel. I dont get along with her. I dont like her.

My dad nodded, but didnt say anything. I was halfway expecting the typical parental line of maybe if you try to show interest in things she likes or some other inane advice. My dad didnt pull that on me, he just took another bite of pork chop.

I elaborated a bit, to fill the silence, She wants things her way, and when she doesnt get that, she gets mean. I dunno. I get enough of that at school, you know?

I know, my dad said. It was a good lead-in for him to question me about what was going on at school, but he didnt take it. He stayed quiet.

I felt immensely grateful, right then. My dad was respecting the boundaries Id set, not pushing, not digging for more. It made this conversation so much easier that it might otherwise have been, and I knew it couldnt be that easy for him.

I felt like I owed him something for that. Sighing, I admitted, Like, at school. The, uh, the people whore giving me a hard time? They sort of ganged up on me on Monday. Just, you know, taking turns insulting me. Its why I needed to get away and went downtown. I felt embarrassed, saying it, because it was humiliating enough to live through without having to recap it, and because it felt so disconnected from the rest of the conversation. But if I didnt say it right then, I dont think I wouldve been able to.

My dad sort of went still. I could see him compose himself and choose his words before he asked, Not to diminish how much it sucks to get put down like that, but they didnt do anything else?

I raised my eyebrows in question as I chewed. They had, kind of, but I couldnt really say They used Moms death to fuck with my head without having to explain the Emma thing.

Anything like what happened in January? he asked.

I lowered my eyes to my plate, then shook my head. After a few moments I said, No. January was a one time thing. Theyve pulled smaller pranks since then, hassled me, but no repeat performances on that front. I made air quotes with my fingers as I said pranks.

Okay, my dad said, quietly, Thats a relief to know.

I didnt feel like sharing any more. Youd think I would feel better, after opening up, but I didnt. I felt frustrated, angry, awkward. It was a reminder that I couldnt have a real conversation with my dad like I used to be able to. More than anything, I felt guilty. Part of the guilt was because Id apparently let my dad think that every time I was bullied, it was like it had been that day, nearly four months ago, when things had been at their worst. I stabbed at a bit of fat with my fork.

When were you going out? My dad asked. I glanced at the digital clock on the stove and noted the time.

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I was glad for the excuse to escape, Now? Is that okay? I wont be long.

Meeting your friends? he asked.

Just going to meet Lisa for coffee and conversation, away from the rest of the group, I told him as I stood up and moved my plate to the sink. The lie was heavier on my conscience after the open disclosure Id just had with him.

Here, wait, he said. He stood up and fished in his pocket for his wallet. He handed me a ten, For the coffee. Sorry I dont have more. Have fun?

I hugged him, feeling painfully guilty, then headed to the back door to pull my shoes on. I was just opening the door when I barely heard him say, Thank you.

Love you, Dad.

I love you too. Be safe.

I shut the door, grabbed the gym bag Id stashed under the back steps and headed around the house at a light jog. I held the gym bag low so my dad wouldnt see me carrying it.

I took the same general route I took on my morning runs, heading east, towards the Bay. This time, though, instead of turning up towards the Boardwalk, I headed south.

Back in its heyday, every inch of the city had been a bustling metropolis. Ships were coming and going at all hours, trains were coming through to deliver goods to be shipped overseas and the city teemed with people. The northern end of the bay especially the area close to the water was all about the industry. Ships, warehouses, factories, railroad and the homes for everyone who worked those jobs. You also had the ferry running across the bay itself.

The ferry was my dads pet project. Apparently, it had been one of the first things to go when the import/export dried up. With the ferry gone, the Docks had sort of been cut off from the rest of the city, unless you were willing to drive for an extra half hour to an hour. My dad held the opinion that the lack of that transportation to the rest of the city was why the Docks had become what they were today. He believed that if the ferry were to start running again, jobs would be created, the people in the low income neighborhoods would have more access to the rest of the city, and the low-class, high-class, no-middle-class dynamic of Brockton Bay would smooth out.

So when Id been trying to think of a place that was fairly private but easy to find, I thought of the ferry. I could probably thank my dad for the idea.

I approached the station and found a disused restroom to change into my costume.

The building and the ferry itself were well kept, at least on the outside, which was one of the reasons my dad felt it would take so little effort to get things going again. Still, that wasnt the citys issue. They didnt want to provide the addicts and the gangbangers easy access to to the rest of the city, all the while paying to provide the service, for mere hopes of maybe getting improvements for the future. So the city kept the station and the ferry looking pretty for any tourists that wandered far enough south from the Boardwalk and maintained eternal temporarily out of service and coming soon signs up around the building and in the brochures. Aside from the regular replacements to keep them looking new, the signs hadnt been taken down in nearly a decade.

I ignored the doors to the stations interior, and instead headed up the stairs to the outdoor patio that overlooked the bay. There were some large panes of glass to break the wind, and stone tables and benches for those wanting to sit to eat. It was one of the best vantage points for seeing the PHQ in all its splendor. The headquarters was a series of arches and spires mounted on a retrofitted oil rig. Even the platform it was built on was beautiful, though, with hard edges and sweeping lines. The entire thing was lit up by tinted spotlights and set against a faint corona of shifting colors, like the aurora borealis trapped in the shape of a soap bubble. A forcefield, forever on, shielding the people who watched over Brockton Bay.

Wasnt sure if you would show up, a male voice broke the silence.

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I turned to face Armsmaster, Im sorry. I had to hang up on your receptionist. Real life called.

He looked somehow different than the first time Id met him. His lips were set in a hard line, his feet set further apart. His arms were folded across his chest with his Halberd in one hand, the pole resting against his shoulder. It conveyed such a different attitude that I momentarily wondered if he was the same person under the suit.

I need to call in a favor.