Chum

The cafe near UPenn is buzzing with activity, students hunched over laptops and textbooks, the air thick with the smell of coffee and stress. I'm trying not to fidget in my seat, feeling like I stick out like a sore thumb among all these college kids. Sundial sits across from me, her presence somehow both calming and intimidating. Next to her is Celine - Manta Rei, 'with an E-I, not an A-Y', and wow, if I thought I felt out of place before, it's nothing compared to how I feel looking at her. White as a ghost, with a good foot on me in height and negative ten pounds on me in weight. Sharp, pointy little dainty nose.

"Sam, this is Celine," Sundial says, her voice low enough that it doesn't carry to the nearby tables. "She's part of the Schuylkill Sirens. I thought she might be interested in what you have to say."

I nod, trying to look more confident than I feel. "Thanks for meeting me. Both of you." I resist the urge to start rambling about how cool I think they are. Focus, Sam.

Celine leans forward, her eyes sharp and assessing. "Sundial says you've got some intel on the Kingdom. Something about the Philadelphia Zoo?"

I take a deep breath, then launch into my explanation, keeping my voice low and trying to hit all the important points without going off on tangents. As I talk, I can see Celine's expression shifting from skepticism to interest, her eyebrows inching higher with each new detail. It's kind of satisfying, actually.

"Huh," she says when I finish, leaning back in her chair. "Well… it's certainly inventive, as far as supervillain schemes go. Where'd you get this?"

I hesitate, not sure how much to reveal. "The important thing is, this is happening," I say, ducking the question. "Soon. And I'm trying to get the word out, make sure people are ready. The other heroes in this city."

I don't want to think about how stupid I'll look if this doesn't happen. I'm not thinking about it. I'm not thinking about it!

Celine exchanges a look with Sundial, some unspoken communication passing between them. Then she turns back to me, her expression serious. "Look, Sam, I appreciate the heads up. But my team, we've got our hands full dealing with the shit that goes down on campus. We can't exactly drop everything for a maybe-heist at the zoo."

I feel my heart sink, disappointment bitter on my tongue. But before I can argue, she continues. "That said, we'll keep an ear out. I'll keep an eye on the news. If things start happening, and we're nearby… we'll figure something out."

It's not exactly what I was hoping for, but it's something. I nod, trying to hide my frustration. "Thanks. I appreciate it. Really."

As we're getting up to leave, Celine catches my arm. Her grip is firm, her eyes intense as they meet mine. "Hey, Bloodhound. Be careful out there, alright? It's not worth risking your life for a rhino or two."

It makes me mad - she's not the first person to say that, and every time, I feel like people aren't understanding what's at stake. Because they're right, it's not worth risking my life for a rhino. But it's not about the rhino. It's not even about the zoo. It's about knowing who's allowed to fuck with my city.

But I don't want to offend Celine, who looks very cool and very French, so I don't say that. Instead, I nod. And I say "I won't."

I'm sprawled across my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of the past few days. My brain feels like it's been through a blender, filled with faces and names and promises - some firm, some vague. I've talked to more superhumans in the last week than I knew existed in Philly. People knowing a guy who knows a girl who knows a guy. Everyone's friends with someone.

Razor, Bulldozer, Manta Rei… and those are just the ones with actual names. There was that guy who could talk to pigeons (useless but interesting), the girl who could make her skin change colors like a chameleon (cool, but not exactly battle-ready), and a guy who can telekinetically control a single spoon. I mean, really? How do you have a near death experience that gives you the power to control a single, particular spoon? How is that even helpful?

I try to do some mental math. If I've met, what, maybe thirty different powered individuals this week? And assuming that's only a fraction of the total… there could be hundreds of superhumans in Philly alone. It's a dizzying thought. How many of them are actually trying to make a difference? How many are just living normal lives, pretending their powers don't exist?

My phone buzzes, interrupting my musings. It's a text from Lily, reminding me about dinner tonight. Right. Thanksgiving at the Golden Panda Buffet. I glance at the clock and realize I need to start getting ready.

As I'm pulling on my nicest pair of jeans (which, let's be honest, isn't saying much), I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. For a moment, I barely recognize myself. When did I start looking so… tired? When did my hair get so long? This isn't the day of the week I set aside for mirror time.

But then again, I think I left that juvenile habit back in the snow last time I got shot.

Time to put Lily's parents out of business.

The Golden Panda Buffet is decked out in a bizarre mix of Thanksgiving and Chinese New Year decorations. Paper turkeys sit next to red lanterns, and I'm pretty sure I spotted a Pilgrim hat on one of the Buddha statues. It's chaotic and kind of perfect.

Lily waves me over to a large table in the corner. She's practically bouncing in her seat, her short dyed hair a riot of purple and white. "Sam! Over here!"

I make my way over, nodding to Jiang Chen as he rushes past with a tray of steaming dumplings. He gives me a quick smile before disappearing into the kitchen. The place is packed, but our table feels like an island of familiar faces in the sea of strangers.

Jason is already piling his plate high with a mix of turkey and General Tso's chicken. Amelia is delicately picking at a plate of vegetables, while Connor seems to be attempting to fit an entire egg roll in his mouth at once. Jordan is huddled close to Connor, looking uncomfortable with the crowd but determined to be here.

"Happy Thanksgiving, guys," I say, sliding into an empty seat. "Thanks for doing this. I owe my parents, like, a month of dishes for letting me come."

Lily grins. "You should be here more often. It'd be better than meeting up in a smelly gym in a warehouse. No offense, Jason."

"None taken," Jason responds between mouthfuls of food.

"None taken," I laugh. "Pretty sure even she'd agree with you."

As we start to dig in, the conversation flows easily. It's nice, in a way I wasn't expecting. For a little while, I can almost forget about the impending zoo heist, about the Kingdom, about all of it. We're just a bunch of friends having dinner together.

"So, Sam," Amelia says between bites of lo mein, "how's school going? You mentioned something about a big history project, right?"

I blink, momentarily thrown. School feels like it happened a lifetime ago. "Oh, uh, yeah. It's… coming along. You know how it is."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "You haven't forgotten about it, have you? With everything else going on?"

I feel a twinge of guilt. He's right, of course. I've been so focused on the Kingdom that I've let pretty much everything else slide. "I'll get it done," I mutter, stuffing a piece of sweet and sour pork in my mouth to avoid saying more.

Connor, bless him, changes the subject. "Hey, did you guys hear about that guy who can talk to cheese? Like, actual cheese communication?"

Jordan snorts. "That's not a real power. Is it?"

As the others debate the merits of dairy-based superpowers, I catch Lily giving me a concerned look. I force a smile, hoping it's convincing. She doesn't need to worry about me. None of them do.

Mei Chen stops by our table, refilling water glasses. "Everything okay? You need more food?"

"Everything's great, Mrs. Chen," I say quickly. "Thanks."

She nods, patting Lily on the shoulder before moving on to the next table. I watch her go, suddenly struck by how normal this all feels. Here we are, a bunch of teenage superheroes, having Thanksgiving dinner at a Chinese buffet. And yet, to anyone looking in, we probably just look like any other group of kids.

I glance around the table, taking in my friends' faces. Jason, always the responsible one, sneaking worried glances at me when he thinks I'm not looking. Amelia, trying so hard to be perfect, to prove she belongs. Connor and Jordan, finding their comfort zone with each other and literally nobody else. And Lily, my rock, always there with a smile or a hug when I need it most.

Almost makes me want to cry!

"Earth to Sam," Lily's voice breaks through my thoughts. "You okay? You kinda zoned out there."

I shake my head, coming back to the present. "Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking about how thankful I am. For all of you."

There's a moment of surprised silence, then Connor raises his glass full of Pepsi. "To friends," he says solemnly, then ruins it by adding, "and to hopefully not dying horribly in the near future!"

"Connor!" Amelia hisses, but we're all laughing.

As I clink my glass with the others, I can't help but wonder if this is the last normal moment we'll have for a while.