3 Superheroes
Superheroes
“Superheroes. Really,” I said, looking at the book in my hands.
Ross took it away and frowned. “I’m sorry, why the snotty tone?”
“What snotty tone?” I asked.
“Listen,” he said, “I have to tell you I like you a little less now that I know you think superheroes are stupid.”
“Jeez,” I replied. “And I wanted you to like me so bad!”
“I do still. It just happens you’ve got bad taste.”
“That must be why I like you,” I joked.
That made him chuckle. He showed me the comic again and said, pointing to a guy holding a big hammer on the cover, “Anyway, this isn’t just any superhero, it’s Thor.”
“So?”
“So he’s powerful. And he’s not a superhero. He’s a god. A Nordic god.”
“Oh my,” I said. “Tremendous. I’m feeling lightheaded.”
“You should show a little more respect. You never know when a Thanos might show up in your life.”
I didn’t know who or what a Thanos was, but my assumption was it was some kind of villain. I kept walking around the shop, looking absent-mindedly at the books. Naya was sifting through the action figures. I didn’t recognize any of them except Spider-Man.
It was my second week already, but it felt like I’d been there two days.
Between class and homework and just life, I’d barely had a free moment.
I’d hardly talked with my family or Monty.
And funny enough, I was over the moon about it.
Sure, I missed them, especially the family, but I was having fun.
With Ross in particular, even if I wouldn’t tell him that.
His ego didn’t need the boost. All of them were great, though: Will, Naya…
I mean, Sue was an exception. But at least she’d stopped grimacing at me. That was something, right?
“Are you into this stuff, too?” I asked Naya.
“When I started going out with Will, I pretended to like it, but then you sort of get into it, you know?” She showed me a blue female figurine. “This is Mystique. What do you think?”
“Nice,” I said. “Very blue. Probably should see a dermatologist.”
“Don’t be mean.” She nudged me with her elbow.
Since Will was talking to the cashier, I decided not to bother him, instead watching Ross as he ran his finger across the spines of the books.
I had to say, he didn’t look bad from behind.
Not that I should be thinking about it. Did he have a girlfriend?
I wondered. He must. But I didn’t think about it as I walked back over to him.
He frowned and said, “Are you back to make fun of me some more?”
“Ross, dear, I’d never make fun of something you cared about.”
“I like that ‘Ross, dear,’” he said.
He had just set aside a comic. I picked it up and said, “Green Lantern? What’s up? You don’t like this one?”
“I’ve already got it.”
“How many do you have?”
“Too many. I collected them as a kid. Now I just read them. They keep me entertained.”
“I could think of other ways to entertain you,” I said.
“So can I. But I’m not sure you’d go along with them.”
I ignored the implications of his remark and told him how Shannon and Spencer used to spend all their money on that stuff. But I don’t really remember which ones. “Who are your favorites?”
He thought for a moment, set aside a Justice League book, and as I picked it up and scrutinized it, said, “Thor, Batman, and Spider-Man.”
“Thor’s handsome,” I told him, pointing at one of the books.
“Don’t make me jealous of my childhood hero.”
“Come on, Ross, let’s be realistic. You can’t compare yourself to a Nordic god.”
“True. It wouldn’t be fair. For him.”
I grinned and flipped through the book. Then I asked, “Is there really only one chick in the Justice League?”
“Yeah, Wonder Woman.”
“How do you think she fights in that outfit without one of her boobs popping out?”
Ross admitted he’d never really thought about it.
I said maybe I’d come back and buy the comic one day and find out, and he said he’d get it for me as a welcome present.
When I reminded him I’d been there for two weeks now, he said, “Just pretend I gave it to you on your first day. It’ll be our secret.
” Then he hurried to the register before I could protest.
I walked outside, where it was raining—that’s why we’d gone inside—and looked at the window display.
I didn’t mind being out there. I liked the rain because it reminded me of the wet summers back home.
Once we were all together again, Will said we should go to his apartment to eat.
Sensing that people were waiting to see what I’d say, I agreed.
I’d had a couple of meals in my room alone, and it was depressing.
I was soaked when we got there. Everyone else had thought to bring a raincoat. Ross had tried to wrap his around me a bit, but it didn’t help. I asked for a towel. But instead of getting it, Ross stood there chuckling at my misfortune.
“Get her a towel, you jerk,” Will said.
While Ross left for the bathroom, I stayed with everyone else in the living room.
Everyone else but Sue, that is. She must have been in her room.
I have to admit I was starting to really wonder what her deal was.
When he came back, Ross tossed me the towel, but it landed on the floor and he started laughing again.
“You want a dry sweatshirt?” he asked.
“Yes. Please.”
I went to his room, stripped off my soaking-wet one, and tossed it into a corner, then dried my hair while he looked around in his dresser.
“If my mom could see me, she’d be losing her mind,” I said.
“She always tells me to dress for the weather, and I always tell her I’m an adult and don’t need her advice.
But apparently I do.” He glanced back with a sarcastic expression and I said, “Don’t make me dry my hair on your sheets. Because I will.”
“OK!” he said, laying a sweatshirt on the bed. “The way you talk about your family makes it seem like your mom’s a hysteric.”
“Nah,” I replied. “At least she’s not diagnosed. But she worries. A lot. Too much.”
“Is that bad?” He put two more sweatshirts on the bed. “Take your pick. Those are the smallest ones I have.”
“No, it’s not bad,” I said, “but it can be a pain. Does your mother call you all the time to ask how you are?”
When he didn’t say anything, I looked over and realized he was standing there in a trance, gawking at me.
And it dawned on me that my undershirt was so wet that he could see straight through it.
At least I had on my favorite bra. But still.
As I caught his eye, he didn’t look ashamed.
I’m not even sure he noticed that I’d busted him.
Remembering what our conversation had been about, he said, “What, my mom? Nah, she doesn’t call much. She never really was that type.”
I had the feeling he didn’t really care for the topic, so I looked at the sweatshirts he’d offered, picking up and discarding a blue one.
I wondered if he’d look at me again. The idea didn’t displease me.
Finally, I settled on the red, and he said, shaking his head, “I don’t know why, but I figured that’s the one you’d pick. ”
In the center of it was an illustration of Pumba.
I waited for him to leave the room so I could change, but he just stood there grinning with his hands in his pockets and asked what I was waiting for.
“For you to leave so I can change!”
“That’s exactly why I’m still standing here.”
I shouted at him to get out and tore off my wet top and bra as soon as he did.
The soft, warm fabric was comforting, and as I pulled up the sleeves, I realized his scent permeated it.
And I liked that. A lot more than I would necessarily admit aloud.
Walking back to the living room, I smiled at Sue, who was eating pizza in an armchair with a depressed look on her face while Will and Naya talked on the couch.
Obviously, Sue didn’t smile back. I sat next to Ross on the other sofa.
I examined the options on the coffee table and picked up a slice of barbecue pizza.
“That is literally the grossest flavor,” Ross said. I looked straight at him and started chewing with my mouth open, eliciting a smile.
“How dare you insult my favorite pizza flavor,” I said.
We started arguing back and forth about who had worse taste until Naya interrupted us to say, “Guys, nobody could be happier that y’all are getting along so great, but I have a problem, and you’re ignoring me!”
“What is it?” Ross asked.
“Tomorrow’s the birthday of this girl who was like my sworn enemy in high school, and she invited me to her party for some reason, and I don’t want to go!”
“You should, though,” Will said. “You need to make peace.”
“Yeah, but what if she wants to humiliate you in front of everyone and traumatize you for the rest of your life?” Ross inquired with a smile.
Salty, Will said to him, “You’re not helping.”
“No one asked me to help,” Ross said.
“No one asked your opinion, either,” I butted in, and he told me, “Yeah, but I give it out for free.”
Naya told Will that even Ross agreed with her and that she’d decided she wouldn’t go.
This irritated Will, who reminded her that she and the other girl had barely seen each other in the past three years.
During their last years of school, they didn’t have the same classes. Probably the girl had changed a lot.
“Doubt it,” Naya said.
“Why?” he wanted to know.
Naya asked me if I had ever known any stuck-up popular kids at my school. I laughed and said I had—my boyfriend.
“That’s different,” Naya objected. “This girl used to constantly make fun of me and try to get under my skin. And I don’t want to go to her party. I don’t even want to see her. I hardly remembered who she was. What should I do?”
Sue piped up, “Put a dead rat in her mailbox.”
Nobody else showed the least surprise at this morbid remark.
Stuffing more pizza into his mouth, Ross said, “I’d skip it. Stupid people never change.”
When Naya responded, “That’s pessimistic,” he told her, “I’d rather call it realistic.”