Free Heroine Complex by Sarah Kuhn Page B

illustrious velvet rope!”
    Being an actual movie star (albeit one who usually starred in lowbrow comedies wherein he donned a foam suit and played an alien, animal, or elderly version of himself), Tommy was the only San Franciscan who could match Aveda in celebrity-ness, and Whistles management had thought he’d make a fine addition to tonight’s event. I knew Aveda thought differently.
    â€œTime to look alive!” Tommy said, bugging out his already buggy eyes.
    I squelched the unease in my gut. My brief interlude with Rose had been calming, but now the oppressive walls of cats were back on my radar and really getting to me.
    They’re just nice, regular folks
, Soothing Inner Voice reminded me as Lucy and Whistles’ lone security guy started letting people past the rope, a few at a time.
Just like Aveda said. Nothing to worry about.
    â€œMs. Jupiter?”
    An awed-looking twelve-year-old girl popped up in front of me. She opened her mouth to speak again, but couldn’t form any words beyond “uhhhhhgghhh.” She thrust an Aveda Jupiter trading card at me, her eyes the size of dinner plates.
    I smiled and took it from her, trying to look as beatific and serene as Aveda always did at public appearances.
    â€œWhy, thank you . . . ?”
    â€œAmy!” she squeaked.
    â€œAmy!” I scrawled my best approximation of Aveda’s signature on the card. “Do you have a question for me?”
    â€œOnly one question per fan!” Lucy barked, hovering behind Amy. “And no touching!”
    â€œI really want to be a superhero when I grow up.” Amy peered at me gravely. “How do I do that?”
    â€œUh . . .”
    The real answer was, of course, “be involved in a freak supernatural accident and let your psycho obsessive nature do the rest.” Instead I took as deep a breath as my corset would allow and said, “Stay in school.”
    She tilted her head to the side, the awe fading.
    â€œThat’s it?”
    â€œYup!” I plastered a grin that was more like a grimace across my face. “You can do it!” I handed her the trading card and ended with a double thumbs-up.
    â€œOkay.” She looked at me skeptically. “Well, thanks.”
    â€œâ€˜Stay in school’?” Lucy clapped a hand over her mouth as the now severely disillusioned Amy toddled off. “Why not lead with ‘crack is wack’?”
    â€œShut up,” I snarked, tugging at my corset. “This thing is cutting off the oxygen flow to my brain.”
    Of course, Maisy chose that moment to flit her way over to us. “Ooh!” she exclaimed, a delighted gleam dawning in her eyes. Shasta stood behind her, scowly as ever. “Is your new costume not working out, Aveda? ’Cause that’s a scoop if I ever heard one.”
    â€œClothing
is
oppressive to our natural forms.” Tommy leered. I took a minuscule step away from him.
    In an instant, Maisy’s phone was in her hands, her thumbs tapping away at the keyboard. “Punked by Steampunk,” she murmured. “Something like that.”
    â€œThat’s a good one,” Shasta said.
    â€œEr, no,” I said, with more force than I intended. Aveda wanted press, but not the kind that made her look silly or indecisive. “The new costume is great. I was just making a hilarious Aveda-style quip.”
    â€œGot it.” Maisy nodded. “I hope we can hang out more so I learn to read you like a true friend. Know when you’re kidding and when you’re not.”
    â€œYou can’t kid a kidder,” Tommy said, guffawing at his own non-joke.
    â€œWhatever that means,” muttered Shasta.
    â€œWait . . .” Lucy swiveled away from me, every muscle in her body tensing. Her gaze zeroed in on a giant dude forcefully pushing his way through the line, eager grin plastered on his face, O VER THE M OON FOR J UPITER ! tee pulled