Fallout (Lois Lane)

The Warheads’ ice barrier collapsed and Daisy breathed another round of fire. That bought the three of us a few final moments to close our eyes, ground back into our actual bodies, and reach up to turn off our holosets.

The last thing I saw in the game was SmallvilleGuy, moving his body to shield mine from whatever the bad guys were about to lob our way, as he lifted his own hand to his ear—no doubt in and outside the game. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t stick around there once Devin and I were gone, and out of harm’s way.

Back in the real world, it took a few moments—I couldn’t have said how many—to feel like I was here instead of there. The same seemed to be true for Devin. He blinked at me without quite focusing.

Maddy laid her hands on my shoulders, giving me a little shake. “What was happening? We’re dying in here. We could only hear your sides of the conversation.”

“We’re okay, I think.” I lightly shrugged Maddy’s hands off and stood. “Devin, I’m so sorry for what they did. I can’t believe . . .”

“Yeah,” he said, dazed, “me either. That was two years of work. Gone.”

“You still have your troll army and the griffins and the elephants,” I said.

“For now.”

“I am not following any of this,” Maddy said.

“Neither am I,” James put in.

“Anavi and the Warheads attacked us, but they’d done way worse before we got there,” I said. “They took Devin’s castle apart brick by brick.”

“Ancient stone by ancient stone,” Devin corrected. “They must have used explosives.”

“Devin has a castle? What kind?” Maddy asked.

“Never mind,” Devin said, and I stayed quiet. “It’s no big thing. I’ll rebuild later.”

He didn’t sound so convinced. And I knew it was a big thing. Two years was a long time to spend building something to have it torn down in an afternoon with no warning.

Then there was Anavi, her personality gone.

But not for good. I won’t let any of this be for good.

Devin said, “Thank your friend for me. It would have been worse if he hadn’t helped out.”

“What friend?” James asked. “Is that the other person you were talking to? The one you told you’d never . . .”

My cheeks were definitely burning, and not the elvish ones. They’d heard my side of the conversation with SmallvilleGuy. About how I’d never fit in. About how being different wasn’t so bad.

“Never. Mind.” I examined my desk so I wouldn’t have to face them. “We have a plan for Monday. This weekend we’ll use for intel and lying low. Let them think they have the upper hand.”

The Warheads probably did have it, but I expected someone to respond to me and agree. When no one did, I looked up to see why. The others were staring at the door to the Morgue.

I turned and discovered that Perry was standing there.

Next to my father.

Dad was in his full regalia. He stuck out in the dim, dusty cavern of the office like a heroically sore thumb.

“You won’t be doing anything this weekend, Lois,” he said. “You’re grounded.”

My hand went to my hip. “What are you doing here?”

The others were gawking at me like I might be crazy.

Oh, right. He was in full intimidation mode, wasn’t he? Even Perry was subdued.

“Your dad wanted to chat, make sure I was aware of the situation,” Perry said. “He wanted to discuss the timeline for following up on Principal Butler and Anavi Singh’s complaints.”

“I bet he did.”

“Lois,” Dad said. He was using his warning tone.

Fine, I had one of those too. “Dad.”

“You can get your things together. Perry assured me that he takes this all seriously, and that if the allegations are true that this—” he glanced around, searching for a word, and I had to admit the office probably made the Scoop look like it wasn’t much. But it was. Appearances were deceptive. “—this outfit will be disbanded.”

So he’d settled on outfit. As if my job was a dress or some random clothes I picked up on a shopping spree at the mall.

He went on, “You’ll spend the weekend thinking about that instead of trying to get the upper hand at whatever you’re up to.”

Aha. Bingo. Eureka. What he was doing became as clear as the crystal James’s family no doubt used at the dinner table.

This was his next move in our battle.

“You’re shortening my timeline. You know the less time I have to do legwork, the less likely I am to prove my story was right.” I whirled to my desk and picked up my phone, taking the time to text Grounded in the app with my right hand while I fumbled around with my left to cover what I was doing. Then I logged out. I never knew how snoopy my parents were going to get when they were mad at me.

And I wasn’t sure Dad had ever been this mad before.

Picking up my bag, I jammed in some random papers before heading his way. “This is very nice of you, Dad. Very supportive.”

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