Hero Stalker

Part Twenty-Eight

His date had ran out of the stadium the moment she heard gunfire, realized her phone was out of batteries, and taken a bus home when she couldn't find her date. Or so I told Dan, as soon as I'd gotten home and sprayed down my purse with Febreeze. The Centurion fabric didn't hold the smell of the porta-potties, but Vicky's dress did. I'd need to get it dry-cleaned before I gave it back to her.

"No, it's no problem," Dan said after I apologized. He still sounded tired, but his voice had lost the edge I'd heard in the stadium. "That's exactly what you should do in those situations. Run. Hey, I had a good time before things went crazy. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Friday? Nothing yet." Maybe I'd celebrate the one week anniversary of my powers by sticking my finger in a light socket.

"Let me buy you lunch"

Yes, please. "Okay. Cool."

That second date was the one ray of sunshine in my whole day of failures and the one reason I got to sleep that night. It evaporated when I woke at seven AM to the tune of 'The Imperial March.' I'd set that ringtone especially for Valerie.

"I need you in the office," she said. "Bring your lunch. Plan on a long day."

Fifteen minutes later, I wore a long-sleeved blue button down and my black slacks. Coffee gurgled as I poured it straight into my blue and white BaytonCommunity College travel mug.

"How late will you be at work?" Mom asked. "They're holding the memorial service for Ms. Newman this afternoon. I'd like you to be there."

"I probably can't make it," I said. "Valerie's in a bad mood."

"Gloria!" Vicky piped up. She already wore a black lace dress and had pinned a matching hat to her hair. "This is important. Someone died!"

Thankfully, Will waltzed in wearing nothing but sweatpants, holding a copy of the Bayton Clarion. "Mom, check this out!"

The cover had a picture of me, Cypher, and Peregrine on it. 'The Changing Face of the Bayton Centurions', it announced. I took a deep breath. As long as it didn't read 'New Centurion Total Failure'.

"About time," Mom muttered, but I saw the proud smile flicker across her face. For the first time in my life, I'd put it there.

Probably the last, since I ducked out past Will while she read the article.

The 23 picked me up eight minutes late and took me all the way to BaytonCommunity College. As always, the commuter lot had filled up. Only the spray-painted penis on the side of the gym was new.

The Cable Street store sat only four blocks from the stop. The brilliant blue sky didn't have a single cloud in it, so the ten minute walk left me drenched in sweat. My legs felt dead and heavy from all the running I'd done yesterday. My right side ached where I'd hit the concrete.

"Why are you late?" Valerie asked when I got up to her office. Needles slept in her ankle-deep hot pink shag carpet.

"The bus was running late."

She blinked. I notice she'd smeared a layer of glitter over her pink eyeshadow. It made her resemble a piece of shrimp. "Why don't you have a car?"

Because you pay me minimum wage. "More eco-friendly."

"Good idea. Someone has been stealing from me." She dropped a binder labeled 'Reimbursement Requests' on her desk. "They're giving me phony receipts."

"Who?"

"I'm not sure yet. My gut tells me there's someone. You don't get into my position without learning to listen to your gut. I need you to go through every one of these for the last six months and check every single receipt. Make sure they're dated and signed. If anyone's putting in fraudulent requests, I'll call the police."