Captain Superlative!: Chapter 18–Epilogue

I walked home after dark—the foggy night obscured the stars—went right to my room, and collapsed face-first on the bed.

When I woke up, Selina was curled up in a ball, nestled in the bend of my legs. I raised my head slightly, the bleary red numbers of my digital clock reading 9:14.

“Leukemia.”
There was another unpleasant word.
“Juvenile something-something leukemia. A relapse.”

I laughed a little. It was a dry, mirthless laugh. Rusty, like I hadn’t used it in a while. “Guess I know what the big C stands for,” I said.
“Do you?”
“That’s what they call cancer, isn’t it? ‘The Big C.’”

I’d forgotten the way Dagmar’s voice sounded when she zeroed in on someone. Sugary-sweet, almost flirtatious. A little too coy. For weeks, she hadn’t dared. Not with Paige, not with anyone. The looming threat of Caitlyn’s presence had been a powerful one.

I’d forgotten the way Dagmar’s voice sounded when she zeroed in on someone. Sugary-sweet, almost flirtatious. A little too coy. For weeks, she hadn’t dared. Not with Paige, not with anyone. The looming threat of Caitlyn’s presence had been a powerful one.

And to make matters even worse, half of the posters had phrases like “Kohn Junior High for Jane” and “Kohn Supports Jane Silverman.” The other half had pictures of Tyler on them, wearing the fake plastic crown.
They were awful. Garish and gaudy and ridiculous and nothing at all like me. They looked like desperation splashed on a wall.

And to make matters even worse, half of the posters had phrases like “Kohn Junior High for Jane” and “Kohn Supports Jane Silverman.” The other half had pictures of Tyler on them, wearing the fake plastic crown.
They were awful. Garish and gaudy and ridiculous and nothing at all like me. They looked like desperation splashed on a wall.

Tyler rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze and looking embarrassed.

But, of course, the day couldn’t make anything easy for me. Because there was Dagmar, lingering near the library door, grinning in that horrible, predatory way of hers. “You learned your lesson yet, freak?” she asked, brushing her ponytail back off her shoulder.

I saw Kevin passing by, unsteady on his crutches. He caught my eyes for a second, but then he saw Dagmar. Looking panicked and afraid, he quickly turned away, hobbling off as fast as he could.

I took off down the hall, careening past every door until I found the girls’ bathroom. I threw myself in just as the dam inside me broke. My legs gave out from under me and I hit the grungy tiles, crumpling up with a few breathy sobs.

I took off down the hall, careening past every door until I found the girls’ bathroom. I threw myself in just as the dam inside me broke. My legs gave out from under me and I hit the grungy tiles, crumpling up with a few breathy sobs.

Everything felt like it was coming out of me, every last drop of anguish and sadness and pain. I cried my guts out. I cried past the point when I knew that my tears had dried up.

Answers, unfortunately, are elusive and temperamental creatures. You have to fight for them. In my case, in order to figure out why Paige wanted me to come over, I would have to run through a gauntlet first.

Answers, unfortunately, are elusive and temperamental creatures. You have to fight for them. In my case, in order to figure out why Paige wanted me to come over, I would have to run through a gauntlet first.

Answers, unfortunately, are elusive and temperamental creatures. You have to fight for them. In my case, in order to figure out why Paige wanted me to come over, I would have to run through a gauntlet first.

I knew it was Dagmar. I recognized the sound of her voice, the pitch and the tone. But at the same time, it was like I was hearing an entirely different person. The person I was hearing was meek. Was small.
Was afraid.

Her father roared again. “There’s mud all over the place!” There was something wrong about the way his words came out. They were slurred and erratic.
“I’ll get the carpet cleaner,” the un-Dagmar said. “Right now.”
“You bet you will. You and your useless soccer shoes.”

Had I become one overnight? Had I somehow crossed the threshold from sidekick to hero?
Wasn’t that something?
I didn’t deserve the mantle. Not after the way I’d treated my mentor. I needed to make that up to her.

An idea started to form. Absently, I twisted the marker that I was still holding. I pulled off the cap, drawing an insignia on the back of my hand, an insignia that I’d seen in one of my dad’s comic books. Just one little star-shaped symbol made the difference in how a normal person was seen by the world at large. Just one little image took that person across the line from ordinary to extraordinary.

An idea started to form. Absently, I twisted the marker that I was still holding. I pulled off the cap, drawing an insignia on the back of my hand, an insignia that I’d seen in one of my dad’s comic books. Just one little star-shaped symbol made the difference in how a normal person was seen by the world at large. Just one little image took that person across the line from ordinary to extraordinary.

Paige seemed to be reading my mind. She gave me a sympathetic grimace and touched my arm. “What’s the plan?”
“Plan?”
“For the dance.”

“I’m not completely delusional, you know,” she finally said, turning to look over at me. She seemed so impossibly tired. “I know I’m not a real superhero.”

Looking back on my anger, even I couldn’t exactly explain it. Probably because it had come from a place of fear instead of real anger. Fear for my own existence as a seventh-grade pariah. Fear of losing the best friend I’d ever had.

It was long past dark when she finally confessed, “I’m kind of tired. I should get some sleep now.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Thanks, Janey.”
There was a lot encompassed in that thanks. I was pretty sure I understood it all.

Large and lazy snowflakes continued to fall sporadically, like little pieces of dryer lint, from the trees and streetlights.

The janitor had sloshed blue antifreeze into the snowbanks, piled up along the sides of the driveway. It created patterns of melt, the muddy grass and pavement peeking out from the pristine snow—a combination of pretty and ugly, like you find in any middle school.

...I kept right on walking, leaving wet footprints behind me as I made my way into the cafeteria. It was decorated all in pale pink: pink paper snowflakes, pink fairy lights, pink tablecloths, pink heart-shaped confetti, little pink cupids on streamers. Even billowing pink sheets draped over the doorways, like awnings.

Tyler was the first to join me. He hurried over, giving me that smile of his that made girls melt. He was wearing a nice button-down shirt and a pair of jeans. Draped over his shoulders was a cape that I’d made out of Selina’s blanket. Kevin hobbled out with him on his crutches, wearing a matching outfit. The only difference was that his cape was one that Paige had put together from one of her mother’s kerchiefs.

One by one, other kids joined. They wore their dresses and ties and high-heeled shoes. Their blazers and flowy skirts and loafers. But they wore capes too. Capes that Paige and I had brought. Capes that Tyler and Raquel and April and the others had scavenged from old dress-up clothes and bathroom towels and printer paper.

All at once the kids who hadn’t been part of the scheme were improvising capes. They grabbed the tablecloths, scattering confetti.

There were ten times as many tributes online. A new hashtag—#WillYouBeSuperlative—had gotten pretty popular. I was gratified about that, really.

Dagmar stretched out on the grass beside Paige, looking up at the sky with us. The wounds she’d inflicted on Paige—the invisible ones born out of torment and insults—would never heal completely. I could see that in the way Paige’s body tensed and then untensed. But they were scabbing over. Which was something.

Dagmar and I both turned to watch her. Neither of us could do what Paige did. I think we were in awe of her superpower:

When life crashes on your shore
When it grinds you through a sieve
Turn your face into the storm
And inside you I’ll live