Chum

Comfortable minutes pass, with Lily providing most of the occasional English snippet. But it's clear from her fluency that she's grown up totally immersed in this in exactly the way I haven't been immersed in Hebrew. She doesn't seem to struggle or strain to grab words from her head. Everything comes out in a smooth, continuous stream, like when you have a flow of water that's moving at just the right rate that it ends up looking like a glass tube.

"So, um, if you guys like… If you ever need a hand or something at the restaurant while I'm here, or if you need someone to do the dishes or something, just let me know. I don't want to be a burden on you guys," I offer during a lull in the conversation about ten minutes later, my belly full of rice, pork belly, and probably at least ten ducks (this is an exaggeration).

Mei waves me off, having grabbed a bottle of beer for herself in the 10-minute interim between my last thought and this new one. "Please, don't worry yourself, Sam. We don't make Lily do chores, and we won't make you do chores. You still have school to go to once you're recovered, I imagine, that'll be enough on your shoulders to focus on."

My body sags a little bit with exhaustion. "Thanks, that's, uh, very kind of you. Wait, did I tell you my name?"

Mei chuckles. "Lily did when we were getting food. Before that, we only knew of you as 'Bee', like the bug. What did you say your powers were again, if you're comfortable saying?" She asks, leaning in, eyes glittering with barely constrained curiosity. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want. I'm just a bit nosy. Are they bug powers?"

I chuckle nervously. "No, Bee is… Well, my superhero name is 'Bloodhound', so everyone on the team calls me BH, like the letters, and that just kind of morphed into 'Bee'. You might have noticed my teeth. That's the main power."

Jiang says something almost immediately at the tail end of my sentence, and Lily looks embarassed to have heard it. "No, papa, they're not cosmetic."

"Huh?" I feel myself going red.

"Papa says that he figured it was just cosmetic dentistry, like what all the kids are getting these days. No, papa, it's her superpower. She can bite through metal!" Lily explains, translating between the two of us.

I rub the back of my head, chuckling to myself. "Yeah, something like that. I can smell blood too, that's the more important one. I'm… really good at telling when people are bleeding or injured. And then I can heal myself. Like eight times faster than other people."

"That sounds like it would be useful in a kitchen. All of those things. Maybe you can work for us after all," Mei offers, chuckling and taking a drink of her beer. She sees my eyes light up and raises a hand. "I'm kidding, sorry, Sam. Well, are you older than sixteen? Because then I might not be kidding."

"No," I say honestly, looking down at my feet. "I'm fourteen."

Jiang gasps. He and Mei both blanch again at the same time. "Come again?" Mei asks.

Even Lily looks a little bit perturbed, even though I'm pretty sure she knew this already. "I'm fourteen?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow.

"Aiyah… So young," Mei murmurs, downcast and gloomy rather suddenly. She knocks back like two full gulps of beer. "Well, let's not linger on that. We're glad you are alive and we're glad to help give you a place to sleep and stay while your home is repaired. As my husband said, a comrade of Lily's is a comrade of ours. Please, make yourself at home."

I try to return all their warmth with a matching smile. "Thank you for having me. Really, it means a lot. I feel… safe here."

Mei and Jiang and Lily all smile at me - a smile, a grin, and a playful smirk, respectively.

"I genuinely can't believe you've never watched The Princess Bride," I say, eyebrows nudging up my forehead in astonishment. Lily is rummaging through a stack of DVDs that sit messily by the television. They still use DVDs here! I'm not mad, or anything, I just haven't seen a DVD in person since, like… I don't know, since I was born? The thin plastic cases are scratched and worn, but they're stacked in a neat pile, as if they've been curated with love.

Lily's eyes flash up from her diligent search, the colorful sparkles of her eyeshadow catching the dim living room light. "Really? Is it good? Like, what's the deal with it?"

For a moment, I stop to watch her as she navigates her pile. Her eyes catch the light, glowing with an eagerness that makes it clear—when Lily gets into something, she really gets into it. We're winding down for the night, prepping our small fortress of blankets and pillows. The futon is still a futon, but it's become something a little more lived-in now, marked by the stains of soy sauce and a sprinkling of fortune cookie crumbs.

Her parents retreated upstairs about ten minutes ago, the creaking of the stairs almost like a 'goodnight.' Lily followed them but only briefly, long enough to change into her PJs and grab an extra set for me. She's a size or two up from me, but the way the fabric billows out is comfortable - it's how I wear pajamas anyway. A size or two too big.

I pause, my hands hovering over the keyboard of the old laptop Lily's lent me for my stay. The thing's been around the block, that's clear. The plastic has yellowed slightly, and the touchpad has the shiny wear of many a scrolling finger. But you know what? It's still functioning. "It's like… I don't know, the ultimate mashup? There's fantasy stuff, right? But also romance. Oh, and comedy. You've got sword fights, a giant, true love, everything you could ever want."

Lily straightens, finally seizing a DVD case from her collection. Her face lights up as if she's discovered a hidden treasure. "Wow, that sounds like the sort of movie they'd show at, like, a kids' sleepover or something," She picks another DVD case, flipping it over to read the back cover before adding it to a small 'maybe' pile. Meanwhile, I open a web browser, clicking through bookmarks, fingers flying across the keys. Usernames and passwords fill in as if by magic, but it's just muscle memory — my hands know where to go, even if my brain is half-preoccupied.

I chuckle, taking a moment to bring the laptop to life. Its aged gears whir, sluggish but still kicking. The screen lights up with a cascade of pixelated icons that look like they've been unchanged since the Windows XP era. "Maybe that's the charm of it," I muse, feeling a sense of grounding as I log into familiar spaces. My virtual homes away from home. "It's a story that doesn't let go, even after you grow up."

While we're talking, I navigate to a couple of forums I like to keep tabs on. Just to have the tabs open. I try not to open too many, since I know my usual habit of having a tab open for everything I want to read will choke this computer to death within hours.

As I hit 'Enter,' I look up to see Lily carefully sliding the chosen DVD into an old player. It's like a snapshot moment, one of those instants where everything feels intensely real and kind of comforting, in a nostalgic sort of way. I'm handed the DVD case as Lily catches my eyes, holding it up like it's a prize. "I prefer horror, you know. Like, ever seen the Saw movies?" The way she emphasizes the title makes it sound almost poetic, and she flips the case over to skim through the back cover.

Hmm.

Hmm. Maybe not today.

"Saw? Seriously?" I quirk an eyebrow, surprise coloring my tone. "You're like, a human glitter bomb. You're way too bubbly for horror movies."

Lily bursts into this infectious giggle, light and airy. "Oh, I can't help it. I love getting the spooks! Especially now, you know? It's October. Prime scary movie season."

While Lily is busy enthusing about her peculiar love for horror, my gaze wanders to my laptop screen. I click over to Big Bad Wolf's fansite. The page is stagnant—no updates on Jordan or me since our last patrol. I find that somewhat comforting. Then I hop over to the general Philly webring, leaping from site to site like an acrobat, thinking maybe someone mentioned the, um, Tyrannosaurus Rex that made an appearance in Mayfair.

But nope. Just some random noise complaints. Too soon for viral monster posts, maybe? "I gotta say, watching a horror movie right before bed doesn't sound like the best idea," I finally comment, flicking the browser shut with a quick movement of my trackpad. "I'm trying to avoid nightmares, not court them."

Lily's eyes twinkle, like she's just caught me in a trap. "Aww, we can make it a weekend adventure if you're scared," she teases, elongating the word 'scared' just a bit too much for my liking.

"I'm not scared," I shoot back, quick as a snap. I feel a sense of defiance rise within me. "Look, I've been in actual, no-joke life-or-death situations. A movie with a muppet on a tricycle is not going to cut it."

The atmosphere hangs for a moment, balanced between our playful banter and the more serious undertones. I can't help but think that, for all her airiness, Lily has her moments of grounding gravity.

And then she laughs. It's teasing, clearly, a bit mocking, but I don't find any malice in it. It's schoolyard. It's the way I interact with my friends from middle school. Where we're so familiar that we can get on each other's nerves and it's fine. Lily's laughter fills the room, a sound as airy as it is genuine. She plops down next to me on the futon. The springs groan beneath us, and I'm suddenly aware of the texture of the sheets on my back. "Oh, you say that now, but getting scared for fun is different, Sam."

I think about it for a moment, fingers drumming on the edge of the old, weathered laptop. It's like I'm doing a mental balance, weighing the fear from life-threatening situations against the scare of a movie. "I get it," I finally say. "It's sorta like comparing roller coasters to car crashes, right? Both get your heart pounding, but one's an experience you actually want."

Lily giggles, and the sound seems to make the cramped room a bit brighter. "Wow, that's deep. But you know, being scared when you know it's all make-believe? It kinda takes the edge off when the real bad stuff comes around."

Her words strike a chord. She's got a point, one I hadn't considered. "Huh, never thought of it like that," I admit, turning my head to look at her. "But let's hold off on the horror movie night, yeah? Just got out of the hospital and all."

Lily's face lights up, eyes twinkling like a kid promised candy. She tucks her legs underneath her, making herself even more compact on the narrow futon. "Okay, it's a date! Not a date-date, like, you know, romance and all. But, like, a friend date!"

A grin spreads across my face before I can stop it. I look at Lily—her endless enthusiasm, her irrepressible spirit—and I know she's not my type. My brain stumbles around the word 'girl', still an awkward term in my mental vocabulary, but I force it into clarity. Lily's not my type of girl. "Sounds good—a scary movie date, then."

Lily glances around the room, her eyes bouncing from one object to another. It's like she's taking a mental inventory of her surroundings, which is pretty on-brand for her. Finally, her gaze rests on a digital clock perched next to an old tube TV. "Geez, time flies, huh? You should get some sleep. School's gonna be wild tomorrow. For me, I mean. You're still on that bed rest thingy, Bee."

Her words hang in the air, punctuated by the unspoken reality that our lives aren't exactly normal. Yet this conversation, aimless and meandering as it was, feels soothing. Kind of like sitting in your jammies on a Sunday morning, cereal bowl in hand, cartoons on the screen. Normal. So I reach behind me and grab one of the spare blankets folded on the back of the futon. It's not the softest thing in the world, and it smells a little bit musty, but it's not the worst comforter I've had to experience in my life. I hand it over to Lily. "Thanks for camping out down here with me tonight. Feels better, you know? Less alone."

Lily's eyes light up. "Of course, Sam!" she exclaims, lying down on her side of the futon. She pulls the blanket up, tucking it snugly under her chin, like she's settling in for a long winter's nap or something. "We're partners in this superhero gig, right? And hey, that means sticking together in the boring parts too."

I can't help but smile. She makes it sound like we're in some kind of buddy cop movie. Reaching over, I flick off the light switch of an old table lamp that's seen better days. The bulb had been weak, flickering like it was on its last breath, and now the room's draped in a soft darkness. The kind that doesn't scare you, but cradles you. It's punctuated only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside, trickling in through the half-closed curtains, and the occasional car driving by, sneaking, cutting through this tucked-away back road.

As my eyes adjust, I let my thoughts wander. It's so strange, finding these pockets of calm when everything else is basically a whirlwind of crazy. But right now, here with Lily in this tiny room, it's peaceful. And after the day I've had—or week, or month, heck, I lost track—that's a rare gift.

Just a moment to breathe. To be still.

And in that stillness, I feel my eyelids growing heavy, the tension in my muscles loosening bit by bit. With Lily beside me, the room doesn't feel so empty, and the weight of the world lightens, even if it's just for tonight.

I stare at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, trying to ignore the pain in my foot. I think - about everything. Everyone. Every place. Eventually, Lily shifting besides me, I break the quiet silence with a question. "You still awake, Lily?"

"Yeah?" she responds immediately.

I suck in air through my teeth. "Do you think Pup and Belle are okay?"

"I think Puppeteer's okay. I mean, she had to step back for a bit, ya know? But she's, like, doing the self-care thing, right?" Lily's voice is soft, tinged with sleep but earnest. "I went to see her the other day. She looked kinda tired but also sort of… at peace? I guess."

I think about that for a moment. I should be mad, but I can't summon the energy to be. Puppeteer was overworked, pushed to the edge—didn't she deserve peace, even if it's in an inpatient center?

"And Belle? Any news on her?" I ask, a little hesitantly.

Lily hesitates before speaking, "Not really. I hope she comes back soon, though. She's, like, the glue, you know? Holds us all together and stuff."

"Glue that's currently missing," I murmur, my thoughts immediately going to Belle's secret struggle with cancer. How much weight can glue hold before it gives way? I wonder if Lily would feel differently if she knew. "I miss her," I admit softly, "even if we didn't get much training in before she went AWOL."

Lily sighs beside me, her body shifting on the mattress topper. "Yeah. But you gotta have faith, right? People like Belle and Puppeteer, they bounce back. It's like a superhero thing, isn't it?"

My heart hammers in my chest for a second. Puppeteer, maybe, but… Belle,

Well. We'll see if she bounces back.

"Maybe. Or maybe they're just as vulnerable as the rest of us." I muse, mulling over the contradicting sentiments of hope and skepticism. "Superpowers don't make you immune to being human."

"Deep, Sam, real deep," Lily chuckles, a tad awkwardly. "Let's try not to get too, um, navel-gazey before bed, if that's okay? I don't like to think too hard. I get weird dreams."

"That's okay," I say between chuckles. I roll over onto my side, staring at the arm of the futon instead of at the ceiling. I like that better - looking up at the indistinct ceiling was starting to make me see faces and whatnot.

We let silence fall between us again, each lost in our thoughts. As I close my eyes, the nagging thoughts and concerns recede, just a little, replaced by a fragile but growing seed of hope. Maybe Lily's right. Maybe being human and flawed doesn't stop us from also being heroes. And maybe, just maybe, that means we'll all find our way back to each other again.

"Goodnight, Lily," I whisper, finally allowing sleep to claim me.

"Night, Sam. Sweet dreams," she replies softly, and within moments, I feel like I might just have some.