Excerpt: SEMI-PSEUDO-SUPERHEROES
I always had to keep inmind the rules Kurt and Felicity and I had made up to protect our talents or powersor whatever let us do what we did. Hide what we did, hide what we were, hide fromtrouble. There was no telling when the weirdness factor of Neighborlee would failus, and those people who spied on the children’s home would return, notice us, andmake us vanish.
So it was good that Sylviadidn't catch me kinda-sorta flying.
"Am I supposed toask what you were thinking?" I asked, after we stood there for a few minutesin silence.
Sylvia was the one Grandstonewho had learned some patience. Where just staring down her cousins, Reggie and Freddiewould get them to mouth off and get themselves in trouble, silence didn't get underSylvia's skin. She could stand there and smirk, or give indications of the mentalgymnastics she was going through, and wait for someone else to talk.
The smart tactic was totake control of the pseudo-conversation when Sylvia was involved. Besides, the moretime she had to think, the better the chances she would twist the situation aroundentirely in her favor. For instance, if I made her stand there long enough, by thetime an argument arose and she started screaming, she would have convinced herselfthat I had tricked her into staying behind after the Q&A. Since I had survivedten years of attending school with her, the odds were good that I could predictwhat she would say and do, and even how she thought. If the mental gyrations inthe gray matter of a Grandstone brain could be called "thinking."
"Just how long didyou think you could keep that secret?" She adjusted her stance so the otherhip was cocked out and she leaned against the other side of the door.
"Uh, it's a secretto me, I guess."
That got one of her trademarksqueal-snorts. "Your parents."
"It's no secret thatI have parents."
I fully expected her toharangue me with the fact that I was one of the Lost Kids of Neighborlee. Formerresident of Neighborlee Children's Home. A reject. A throwaway. Sloppy seconds.
"They're famous!"Sylvia came out of the doorway, jamming her fists into her hips. "Your parentsare big-time, famous writers! How long did you think you could hide it? Some people!"Another squeal, with only a touch of snort.
"Uh, I never triedto hide it."
What I tried to hide wasmy grin. Until that first booksigning where people were lined up halfway aroundthe block, it never really registered that my parents with twenty books to theirnames were indeed popular writers. People paid good money and waited eagerly forfirst editions in hardback.
"I can't believeI never made the connection." Sylvia tipped her head to one side, letting herhair fall in her face. "I mean, yeah, they're the weird, hippie Zephyrs, butthey're famous. They've got about a gazillion books that people buy. Youare rich."
Uh huh. So that was herproblem. Nobody in town was allowed to be rich other than the Grandstones.
