My name is Joy Rose. And I am a superhero.
OK, I know what you’re thinking. This girl actually thinks she’s a superhero? Yeah right. More like a super nerd.
I might be a nerd, but I am no doubt also a superhero. Well, I have superpowers. Whether or not I’m a hero, that’s entirely up to you. I guess I should start from the beginning.
I’ve always been a shy, geeky girl. My parents got divorced when I was 12, and I learned to keep to myself. I mean, there were countless days during middle and high school when I just sat by myself, waiting for some sort of miracle to happen. But my dreams, as high as they aimed, always shattered. So after I graduated my college, I moved into an apartment in New York by myself. I worked at a bookstore during the day, and I was a waitress at a diner at night. Not exactly a high-class life.
Well, it started out as a normal day. I overslept. I tucked my hair back into my normal messily braided pigtails and threw on short-shorts and my favorite graphic tee. I never really understood the whole point of fashion; we were all just using clothes for protection from the weather, not to attract mates, right? I grabbed my glasses and ran out the door.
Tucker was getting the newspaper down the hall, and his tall frame crumpled to reach the ground. My heart fluttered as he looked up and waved.
“Hi Tucker,” I said, blushing. “I’d love to stay and talk, but I’m late for work.”
“It’s fine,” he said, smiling. I tried not to feel light-headed, but it didn’t work. I dizzily made my way down the stairs and out into the street.
I was completely in love with Tucker Freeman. He was amazing. I’m the type of girl who falls in love once, and hard. It just happened to be Tucker. OK, so maybe I never formally introduced myself to him, but he can see me. I swear, he had the same feelings for me.
His eyes stood out like the sky, contrasting his chocolate brown hair that cascaded like a wave on his head. His teeth were pearly, and his smile was heavenly. The way he looks at people, like he can see into their soul, was more than astounding to me. It was awe-inspiring. This was the compassion I had always looked for in my life, but could never find it.
I ran down the street, hurrying to the bookstore. I tightened my hair, hoping that it looked naturally tousled and not like I barely had time to brush through it. I liked my hair. It was maybe the only thing I liked on me. It was one of those brownish reds that people envied, and mine just happened to be very loose and smooth, unlike other girls with the natural color. My mother only talked to me about my hair when I was little. Perhaps it was the easiest thing she could relate to. She said it was goddess hair.
I stopped outside the store for a second, threw on my glassed, and burst into the store.
Though it was called a library, most of it was composed of comic books. Mr. Lian, my boss, had a son who seemed like he was obsessed with comic books. Every week, at least two more appeared on the doorstep. The room was tiny, with four rows of bookcases crammed full of books. One row was labeled classics, another was labeled non-fiction, another was labeled fiction, and the last was labeled kids. On every available space on the walls hung racks of comic books. Not just Superman and Spiderman comics, oh no, but every comic book seemingly ever created. The glass counter where I worked displayed the mint condition classic comic books. Some even dated back to the 50’s, and I had to admit, some of the plotlines in the comics were amazing.
“You’re late, Joy,” Mr. Lian grumbled. He was carelessly reading a newspaper in the corner of the store, a coffee no longer steaming on the counter. “That’s the third time this week.”
