Super Secret (Book 1): Super Model Read online

  “I’m fine. I’m already on the bus. Be there soon. Love you.”

  A part of me wanted to believe the nurse’s note but the rational part of me knew it couldn’t really be true. A panic attack would make sense if I hadn’t had such a clear vision during it. I’d never heard of that happening with anyone. I even googled it on my phone on the ride home. It seemed I was special—and not in a good way.

  When I walked into Poco hours earlier than I should have, my mother was on me within seconds. “The school called me. What happened?”

  Mom smooshed me into a bear hug before I could even begin to answer her question. The pre-lunch customers stared at us. “The nurse said I had a panic attack,” I said but it was muffled by Mom’s hug.

  I pushed her away from me with as much gentleness as I could. “Here,” I said, handing her the note the nurse had given me. “This is for you.” She read it as I dumped my backpack, coat, and other stuff onto an empty table in the corner.

  “I don’t understand. A panic attack? What were you panicking about?”

  “I don’t know. I was giving my oral report and it just happened.”

  “I’m going to call the school. They should not be putting you in these situations where you have to panic. What is this? The Hunger Games?” She went off to ruin some school administrator’s day. I couldn’t tell her anything that would stop her, so I just pulled out my homework and got started like it was any other day.

  “—I need to speak to him right now, actually. It’s about my daughter’s near death incident at his school today. Yes, I’ll hold.” Mom was already deep into her conversation by the time she came back with a grilled cheese sandwich for me. “Eat, eat, eat,” she murmured to me as she put it down, the phone still wedged between her shoulder and ear. “And this came for you.” She pulled a large envelope from her apron pocket and laid it on the table next to the plate.

  I made short work of the sandwich before moving to the envelope. I didn’t get much mail—a birthday card or two from relatives. Since my mom had started sending off for things, I was getting brochures or letters from private and charter schools. But this envelope didn’t have a return address. I tore it open and fished out the letter.

  “Ms. Penelope Gordon,” the letter began. “Thank you for signing up for the Big Super, Little Super program. Super work is a tough yet rewarding lifestyle choice but with the help of your Big Super, you will have a supportive role model to help you traverse your educational years.”

  I stopped reading. I hadn’t signed up for any programs. And this was the first piece of anything that had mentioned the word “Super” to me since Dad had died. Could it have been him that signed me up without telling me?

  Reading further, I discovered that I’d been matched with a Big Super through the program’s review of my abilities and preferences. “Below, you’ll find that the name and contact information for your Big Super. They will receive a similar notification, but don’t wait for them to contact you! Reach out and set up your first meetup as soon as possible.” Then a few lines down it started with “Your Big Super’s name is—”

  “—Yes, thank you, thank you. I appreciate this. And I’ll call back if there’s anything else.” Mom came wandering back to the table and I barely had a second to stuff the letter into my backpack before she saw it. She hung up her phone and beamed at me.

  “So, your principal says that you won’t have to re-do your report. You just need to give your teacher the part you wrote down and she’ll grade that. And I’m sure she’ll give you an A considering all of the trauma you’ve endured. . . and if she doesn’t, I’ll just call the principal again.”

  “Um, thanks, Mom.”

  She covered me in kisses. “Oh, you’re welcome, my love. Anything for you. Now you just rest here and I’ll see if I can get Jeannie to come in early tonight. I think you and I need to have a nice quiet evening together. Maybe we can go over some of those school catalogs.”

  I winced at the idea of a long night planning my future. “I’m still pretty tired.”

  “We’ll just do a few and then you’ll get some rest.” She gave me one last kiss and then sauntered away to make another phone call.

  I waited until she was out of sight before I snatched the letter back out of my bag and uncrumpled it enough to continue reading it. It took the longest second in the world for me the find where I left off. “Your Big Super’s name is Audrey Hart,” the letter explained, followed by a phone number and mailing address for her.

  “Audrey Hart,” I repeated. My mind flashed back to the hallucination I’d had early that day. That was the name on the building directory. This had to be a sign—just like Dad always talked about.

  I looked down at the paper again. The universe had finally sent me some help. And her name was Audrey Hart.

  Chapter 5

  When my dad shared the Super secret with me, I just assumed that I would start having visions and dreams all of the time. But I didn’t. I had a few vivid dreams and followed Dad’s instructions to look for signs everywhere. Still, nothing came true. And then I started having that dream about the Super book, but nothing had happened with that, either.

  I guess I should have told my dad. But he was so excited about the possibility of me developing powers that I didn’t want to burst his bubble. Besides, people kept telling me I’d get taller if I was just patient. Maybe if I was patient enough, my powers would come in, too.

  And then Dad was gone. It killed me to know that I wasn’t going to be able to finish what he started. So while I was still queasy about the whole thing, I was kinda excited that I finally had a lead on something that could make my dad’s plan come true.

  But I guess this Audrey person wasn’t really that excited about our meeting. I spent most of Friday night and Saturday morning trying to get in touch with her. I called the number on the notice but it was disconnected. I googled her but she didn’t have a digital footprint—no social media, no blog, nothing. I even called 411 but they didn’t have a listing for her.

  So I did the only thing I could do—I went to her apartment.

  The address on the letter was in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn. I was a Queens girl so I didn’t really know the area but I used my phone’s GPS to find it. I wasn’t sure what time to go because my vision didn’t have those details. I just got up as early as I could and took the train to Brooklyn.

  My stomach was doing flips from the combination of hunting down a stranger and the possibility that I’d actually had a real vision. I even lied to my mother about where I was going. She thought I was at the library studying. Somehow, I had stumbled into a really cheesy after-school special combined with a rerun of That’s So Raven.

  As soon as the building came into view, I got a flash of recognition. The directory looked very similar to the one I’d seen in my vision. Except when I got to the entry for Audrey, something was different.

  Audrey Hart, Superintendent.

  Still, I knocked on the door for apartment 1A. This is it, I thought as the waves of expectation washed over me. This door is going to open and my whole life is going to change.

  The expectation started to waver a bit as I waited, nervously tapping my foot. I knocked on the door, again, a little harder this time. I put my ear to the door but no sound came from the other side. Obviously, there wasn’t anyone home.

  “She’s not home.”

  I turned around to see an old guy standing across the foyer. He wore camouflage pants and an army jacket with a black beanie and a snowman-patterned scarf. He was basically all of my mom’s fears about me navigating the city alone come to life. “Um, OK.” I turned to go.

  The man took a bite out of the corn dog I suddenly noticed he was holding and mumbled “She’s having pancakes with her boyfriend.”

  “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  He shrugged. “When she’s done with her pancakes.” He turned to walk away but stopped in mid movement to turn back to me. “Is this about t
he Phams?”

  “The Phams?”

  He pointed up the stairs. “Yeah, the Pham kids from upstairs.”

  “No, I’m not one of the Pham kids.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, duh. You’re not Vietnamese.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about but it was pissing me off. “Listen—” I started. But he already disappeared down a set of stairs on the far end of the foyer. Left alone, I had two choices—I could go home or I could wait until my Big Super got back.

  Considering going home with the same problems I’d left with made me feel queasy. I’d come here to get some help and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave until I got it. So, I went outside to sit on the front stoop until my destiny got back from having pancakes with her boyfriend.

  Chapter 6

  “You Audrey?”

  It turns out that pancakes can take a long time. I sat on the stoop waiting for at least two hours. While I was there, tenants came in and out of the building. I asked each one if they were Audrey or if they knew where Audrey was. Each of them said no. And the longer I sat there, the madder I got about it. I was out here waiting for my destiny and my destiny was taking her sweet time.

  By the time the couple got out of the blue Volkswagen and headed toward the building, I was just about ready to pack it in for the day. I asked the same question I’d been asking all day almost halfheartedly. “You Audrey?”

  “Yeah?” The chick in the hoodie and jeans answered but seemed wary. She stopped right in front of me and the guy murmured something to her and sidestepped me before heading into the building. I stood up and adjusted myself. Now that I was standing in front of her, I was a little nervous.

  I started to introduce myself but she cut me off with “Are you one of the Pham kids’ friends? Because I meant what I said about no more roof parties.”

  My annoyance bubbled up through my mouth. “If I were here to see somebody else, I’d asked for somebody else. I’m here to see you.”

  She seemed to be getting impatient, too. “Then what do you want? Are you getting a head start on selling Girl Scout Cookies?”

  “It doesn’t look like you need any more cookies to me.”

  “Listen, Kid—” she started.

  “My name isn’t kid,” I cut her off. “It’s Penny.” For a moment I felt a little self-conscious. I’d never spoken this aloud to anyone but my father. But if I didn’t ask her, I wasn’t going to get anywhere. And I had to get the answers I’d come for. “Are. . . are you gonna help me be a Super or not?”

  Chapter 7

  “Who the hell are you?” Audrey hustled me into her small, messy apartment and slammed the door behind us.

  A TV was on one wall and a couch on the other. There was a pile of clothes in the corner and a coffee table filled with beer bottles and an empty pizza box. On an end table next to the couch, a fish floated in a small bowl, making me wonder if it was still living. Basically, it looked like it belonged to a teenage boy whose parents had been out of town for too long.

  “Penny. Your Little Super.”

  That only confused her even more. “My what?”

  I repeated myself. “Your Little Super.”

  “That’s what I thought you said but I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Here.” I’d come prepared. I pulled the letter from my backpack and handed it to her. “This look familiar?”

  She took the paper from me and skimmed over it in silence. It was a few moments before she spoke again. “This is wrong. I never signed up to mentor anyone. I didn’t even know this program existed. And it sounds like exactly the sort of thing I’d avoid if I ever did hear about it.” She handed the paper back. “Sorry, Kid.”

  “My name is not ‘Kid.’” This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I’d been counting on Audrey to help me. I looked down at the letter again, as if reading it for the four hundredth time would tell me anything new “I don’t understand. I’m supposed to be going to the Academy this year and I need a Big Super. What am I supposed to do now?”

  Audrey shook her head. “Let’s just ignore it. Someone will figure out their mistake sooner or—”

  “No! I need a Big Super. I need help now!” It came out harsher than I meant it too but the idea that she was going to just send me away terrified me.

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  I crossed my own arms, leaned back against her front door, and gave her the same look I gave Mrs. Moak when she thought she was going to give me a B in Geometry. “I’m not leaving here until you help me.”

  Apparently, Audrey had had enough of me. She tried to push me out of the way with one hand and open the door with the other. I refused to budge. The two of us pushed back and forth until I lost my footing and knocked over the fish bowl on the end table next the couch. The bowl fell to the hardwood floor with a boom and broke into a million shards, leaving the fish flopping in a puddle on the ground.

  “Crash!” Audrey dove into the broken glass and spilled water and grabbed for the fish.

  I just stood by the door, too shocked to move. By the time I found my voice, Audrey had scooped up the fish but had also cut herself in the process. Blood was running through her cupped hands and dripping onto the floor. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make the bowl crash.”

  “No! Not the bowl! The fish!” she screamed back at me, running into the kitchen with her hands still cupped. “Help me!”

  I ran into the kitchen after her. “What should I do? What should I do?”

  “Get a pot out of the cabinet and fill it with water!” she shouted. I followed her instructions as quickly as possible and yanked the cabinet open. There was only a box of Cheez-its and an old beat-up pot. “Put some water in it!” I turned on the water faucet and pushed the pot underneath it.

  As soon as the water started to pool into the pot, Audrey leaned over it and opened her cupped hands, plopping her fish into it. We stood side by side at the sink, looking down into the pot. It was only when the fish took a full lap around the pot that we both let out a sigh of relief.

  “That’s Crash. He’s my roommate,” Audrey explained, pointing at the fish.

  I was glad for her fish but I was actually more concerned with her hands. They were bloody and she’d obviously been hurt. “Do you need to go to the ER?”

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “No.” Then she moved Crash and his new home to the counter and used the running water to rinse her hands off. Once she cleaned herself up, it was clear that the glass had sliced her left hand pretty far down. It looked ugly enough to need a doctor.

  “No, I really think you need to go—“ But before I could finish telling her that she would get an infection if she didn’t take care of it, the gash was gone. I had to blink my eyes to make sure I was seeing right. The skin on her hand literally grew back together and covered the wound right before my eyes. She looked as good as new.

  A thousand things went through my mind at once. If I thought I was in the wrong place, seeing this made it clear I wasn’t. I tried to get myself together but the shock of what I was seeing was too much.

  Audrey didn’t seem affected at all. “Ugh, I need a beer!” She took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, twisted it opened, and took a big gulp from it. “What?” She pointed at her bottle. “You want one?”

  “It’s not even eleven in the morning. And, I’m thirteen.”

  “Oh. Right. Sorry.” She took a couple of more gulps and then threw the empty bottle into the overflowing trashcan. “This whole thing is obviously a mistake. Someone mixed up the names from some database or something. All you have to do is get in touch with whoever runs this program and tell them. They’ll probably assign you a new Big Super and you’ll get some lucky person to be your mentor.”

  I looked at the letter again. “There’s a phone number. I guess I could call tomorrow when they open.”

  “Or you could just go down there, ambush them, and refuse to leave until you
get what you want,” Audrey mumbled sarcastically.

  I folded the letter up and put it back in my bag before walking toward the door. “Actually, that’s a great idea. If we go down there and tell them about the mistake, they’ll have to do something about it right away.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, you have to go with me.”

  “Why? You seem capable of handling yourself.”

  “But I need you there to explain that you never signed up. It will better coming from you.”

  “I’d have to check my schedule actually. I have to get up early. I have a lot of work to do. Errands. Adult shit.”

  “Perfect. I don’t even get out of school until two and I have a makeup test in math after that. I’ll meet you at the office in Midtown around four. You just tell them what you told me and you’ll never see me again,” I finished.

  “Fine.” Audrey pushed me out of the way and opened her front door. “I’ll meet you down there but if you’re even a minute late, I’m outta there. And all I’m doing is telling them I didn’t sign up for the program. That’s it. I’m leaving right after that.”

  I stepped out into the hallway. “Great!”

  “Great!” And then she slammed the door closed right in my face.

  I stood there for a half a second. It occurred to me that she might not show up the next day. I quickly pushed that thought away. If she doesn’t show up, I still know where she lives. And I’ll come back with a sleeping bag and a can of Lysol if I have to.

  Chapter 8

  “You’re late!”

  I was standing on the corner of Fifty-first St and Sixth Ave, looking down Fifty-first for a moment and then down Sixth the other, like one of those bobble head toys. I hated that I looked so desperate but I just didn’t know which direction Audrey would be coming from. We’d agreed to meet there at four but I’d been there since 3:45 with my heart in my mouth.