she jumps Freddy from behind, sending them both sprawling onto me. "Um… that didn't go how I imagined it," she says. I groan. Emily starts laughing her head off.
"TSUNAMI ATTACK!" I hear her shout. Another weight is added onto the pile on top of me.
A whistle shrieks. "Okay, okay, off the dog-pile," Falconess says, moving to where we can see her if we turn our heads. She looks at Malina as they crawl off of me. "Tsunami attack?" she says dryly.
"It sounded cool," Malina says, blushing brightly, "you know, in my head."
Emily's laughing so hard that tears are falling, now, I note idly. "I—" she says between breaths, "like it!"
"Well, um, I could yell something else?" Malina offers.
"How about 'duck'?" I offer dryly.
"That would ruin the whole point of it!" she says, looking highly offended at the idea. "I don't want them to duck, I'm tackling them!"
"Well, if you yell ANYTHING, people are going to know you're doing it," I have to tell her. I can hear my bandmates in the background, they're laughing even harder than Emily is.
"Okay, okay, work on catch phrases later," Falconess says, clapping her hands. "If your partner has a problem reaching their weapon of choice, what do you think you should do?" she asks, looking straight at me.
"I can't exactly stand over there and make the water fountain flow," I say darkly. "You saw how well that worked for Malina."
"But that's not the ONLY source of water here," Falconess points out. "Check the bathrooms, see if you can't get the sinks running. Either of you can do it—it depends on who draws the most attention, understand? What you did was correct, but I would suggest more stealth and speed when looking for water. Justin is loud and flashy, a perfect way to distract the other team, but you only have so much time," she says to Malina. "Thankfully, your small size will come in handy—people won't expect you to be dangerous, at least they won't the first time they run into you."
"If it's Max or one of the other boys, they'll make sure to fall for it every time," Emily agrees.
"Really," Falconess says skeptically.
"Definitely," I have to agree. "Jack, especially—he's actually really good at acting stupid."
"Fine. Now, let's start over—the surprise attack was good, but let's do this like a photo op. Emily, Freddy, you're villains this round, Justin, get your heroic pose on." She blows hard on the whistle. "And START!"
***
*Somewhere in Utah*
“The Hall is getting out of hand,” Senator Herold preaches through the speakers of her parent’s television. Rachel Proctor, future West Hall hero, ignores it, typing away on her computer. This is no time to freak out over yet another rant about supers and how they’re “dangerous to our children.” Something far more important is going on. Justin is going back on tour.
“Dad? Mom? Can I go over to Kirsten’s tomorrow night?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Is it that silly fanclub thing of yours?” her mom demands. “Don’t you have more important things to do than obsess over a pop singer? Like getting ready for your debut this weekend?”
“It isn’t silly! This is a seriously BIG thing! Bigger than a stupid debut! And I CAN’T do it this weekend!” she protests, getting to her feet. “Justin is finally coming back--I have a million and one things to do--”
“In other news,” the news lady says, cutting off the Senator entirely, “it’s been confirmed that the pop singer Justin is finally admitting that he's--”
“Please don’t say married,” Rachel says, crossing her fingers. How will she be able to write fanfiction of their marriage if he’s already married? Maybe if his wife dies off in a freak accident--
“A super,” the news lady finishes.
“He’s a WHAT?” Rachel yelps, only to hear the question echoed by her parents.
“There have been rumors, of course, since the incident at his last show, but we finally have confirmation from his new agent, Nathan Pao.”
An
"TSUNAMI ATTACK!" I hear her shout. Another weight is added onto the pile on top of me.
A whistle shrieks. "Okay, okay, off the dog-pile," Falconess says, moving to where we can see her if we turn our heads. She looks at Malina as they crawl off of me. "Tsunami attack?" she says dryly.
"It sounded cool," Malina says, blushing brightly, "you know, in my head."
Emily's laughing so hard that tears are falling, now, I note idly. "I—" she says between breaths, "like it!"
"Well, um, I could yell something else?" Malina offers.
"How about 'duck'?" I offer dryly.
"That would ruin the whole point of it!" she says, looking highly offended at the idea. "I don't want them to duck, I'm tackling them!"
"Well, if you yell ANYTHING, people are going to know you're doing it," I have to tell her. I can hear my bandmates in the background, they're laughing even harder than Emily is.
"Okay, okay, work on catch phrases later," Falconess says, clapping her hands. "If your partner has a problem reaching their weapon of choice, what do you think you should do?" she asks, looking straight at me.
"I can't exactly stand over there and make the water fountain flow," I say darkly. "You saw how well that worked for Malina."
"But that's not the ONLY source of water here," Falconess points out. "Check the bathrooms, see if you can't get the sinks running. Either of you can do it—it depends on who draws the most attention, understand? What you did was correct, but I would suggest more stealth and speed when looking for water. Justin is loud and flashy, a perfect way to distract the other team, but you only have so much time," she says to Malina. "Thankfully, your small size will come in handy—people won't expect you to be dangerous, at least they won't the first time they run into you."
"If it's Max or one of the other boys, they'll make sure to fall for it every time," Emily agrees.
"Really," Falconess says skeptically.
"Definitely," I have to agree. "Jack, especially—he's actually really good at acting stupid."
"Fine. Now, let's start over—the surprise attack was good, but let's do this like a photo op. Emily, Freddy, you're villains this round, Justin, get your heroic pose on." She blows hard on the whistle. "And START!"
***
*Somewhere in Utah*
“The Hall is getting out of hand,” Senator Herold preaches through the speakers of her parent’s television. Rachel Proctor, future West Hall hero, ignores it, typing away on her computer. This is no time to freak out over yet another rant about supers and how they’re “dangerous to our children.” Something far more important is going on. Justin is going back on tour.
“Dad? Mom? Can I go over to Kirsten’s tomorrow night?” she calls over her shoulder.
“Is it that silly fanclub thing of yours?” her mom demands. “Don’t you have more important things to do than obsess over a pop singer? Like getting ready for your debut this weekend?”
“It isn’t silly! This is a seriously BIG thing! Bigger than a stupid debut! And I CAN’T do it this weekend!” she protests, getting to her feet. “Justin is finally coming back--I have a million and one things to do--”
“In other news,” the news lady says, cutting off the Senator entirely, “it’s been confirmed that the pop singer Justin is finally admitting that he's--”
“Please don’t say married,” Rachel says, crossing her fingers. How will she be able to write fanfiction of their marriage if he’s already married? Maybe if his wife dies off in a freak accident--
“A super,” the news lady finishes.
“He’s a WHAT?” Rachel yelps, only to hear the question echoed by her parents.
“There have been rumors, of course, since the incident at his last show, but we finally have confirmation from his new agent, Nathan Pao.”
An
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