Chapter 20

All talk on Tuesday morning revolved around the incident at the bowling alley. Personally, Tiff didn’t think it even deserved to be labeled as an “incident,” but she was clearly in the minority. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she turned her head, it was the same thing, over and over.

Did you hear what happened at Boulevard Bowl…?

Yo, a Cape-squad put the smack down on some criminals last night…!

Hotline is such a hunk…~

Okay, so Tiff had no idea what that last one was about and she was pretty sure she didn’t want to find out. But the point remained, no matter what circles she brushed up against, somebody had something to say about last night’s escapades. And, because fate was cruel, Tiff was embroiled deep within it.

The moment Victoria dropped Tiff and Amy off at school, heads instantly turned their way. Amy was taking it like an absolute champ, reveling at her sudden chance at stardom and basking in the spotlight, talking up whoever wanted to pick her brain for the juiciest details. Tiff watched her strut toward her row of lockers like a peacock on display, leading around a gaggle of followers like some homesick ducklings. Tiff had to give it to Amy; it fit her style. She even had a few seniors strung along, and that was quite impressive for a freshman.

Tiff, on the other hand, loathed her sudden “success.” First, she didn’t feel like there was anything she had succeeded at, and second, she was the same person right now as she had been the day before. It wasn’t like she actually did anything to stop the crooks.

Or, at least, she didn’t do anything she considered worth praising that she wanted out in the open. The fact that she had told her dad about the robbers in the first place was something only she knew, and she wasn’t sharing it with anyone. Even Amy’s account included vague allusions and hand-waving whenever anybody asked for cold, hard facts.

Which, strangely, most people weren’t. And that might have been what was bothering Tiff the most. Crime was not uncommon in Setma Heights, so there was no reason the affair at the bowling alley should be garnering this much attention at school. Nobody blinked an eye when a gas station got knocked over, and Tiff was fairly certain somebody actually cheered the last time the Walmart got held up. Those people were degenerates, as far as Tiff was concerned, and their opinions were invalid. But the fact remained that something had to be different about last night than any other minor bit of crime to occur in the area on a daily basis.

Part of it was because of all the crappy cellphone recordings circulating the web, some of which had gone viral. Internet sleuths were quick to point out all the details, even before the news stations could get to them, so, of course, the first thing deduced was the location. And since Boulevard Bowl was practically up the street, that made it local. Any high schooler worth their rumor-sniffing-salt would be interested in a couple of Capes laying down the law in their own backyard.

Perhaps that was the real thing that was bugging Tiff.

Nobody cared one bit when a mom and pop store got hit unless they were related to them. It was a sad fact of life, something to be mourned, grieved, or otherwise shrugged off with a heavy sigh and a small, “Bad luck.” But just because a Meta in a super-suit showed up, it was suddenly important.

Tiff was brooding inside Homeroom, waiting for the bell to ring. She’d gotten annoyed at randos trying to hound her for information. Whoever scoured those videos found out Amy was there. By process of elimination, they either knew Tiff had been there too, as her sister was in the thick of things, or at the very least she had to know something. But Tiff’s lips were sealed. Sadly, not everybody bought her cold-shoulder act, or maybe they were immune to it. Some of the cretins actually followed her into class.

Who the crap are all these people?

“As you can see,” Candice said nonchalantly, squeezing through the crowd forming around Tiff’s desk and taking her seat, “The Ice Queen is not taking any questions at this time. Move along, peasants. It isn’t personal; she simply doesn’t know who you are.”

They were, of course, her classmates, and now that it was pointed out, it was obvious. Much like Candice, though, Tiff had never bothered to remember most of their names…with the few exceptions being the standouts she couldn’t ignore. But right now, there was a pair of boys leaning on her desk, and she wasn’t quite sure if she should tell them off for invading her personal space or compliment them on their matching wrist watches.

“That means leave, Davis,” Candice said dryly. “You’ll have better luck asking someone else.”

Tiff blinked and turned to face her friend. Sometimes, she wondered if being an extrovert was a superpower. With a wave of her hand, Candice could make people disappear! Or so it seemed to Tiff. She was about to thank the girl, but Candice was looking…different?

“What have you done to your hair?” Tiff blurted. “And what are you wearing?”

Despite Tiff’s disbelieving tone of voice, Candice visibly brightened. She got back up and did a little twirl, spinning in a small circle between the desks to exhibit her outfit. Tiff was immediately drawn to images of glamrock and the 1980s.

She also wouldn’t be caught dead wearing it.

Instead of sticking her long blonde hair into a ponytail like normal, Candice had opted for something closer to a hair explosion. It wasn’t a ‘fro, Tiff knew that much, but she had no idea how to describe it other than…big. She was wearing her cheer vest and skirt (maybe because they had practice later), a hand-knit cardigan tied around her waist, but the craziest part had to be the socks. They went up to Candice’s knees even though they were scrunched up enough to have more ripples than a triple scoop of ice cream. Tiff was willing to bet a not inconsiderable amount of…something that if she stretched those socks out to their full length, they’d be taller than Candice.

And she was sorely tempted to try.

“Like, amazing, amirite?” Candice bubbled. She shooed the boys away, who’d been lingering to get a good look, and sat sideways in her desk to face Tiff. “Loose socks, fam. You need these in your life.”

“Candice, I think they’d consume me. Like, literally eat me whole.”

“And that’s the best part,” Candice beamed. Tiff shook her head. It was far too early in the morning to be dealing with cheery people.

“But…why?”

“Girl,” Candice tsk-ed, “Where’s your sense of spirit?”

“Let the spirits sleep,” Tiff denied. “They’re old and tired.”

Candice stuck out her tongue playfully and Tiff rolled her eyes. And then a very sobering thought struck her. She turned a worried glance toward Candice.

“I won’t have to wear that to the game, will I?”

Candice’s eyes widened with excitement, but she decided to have mercy on the poor girl.

“No,” she chuckled. “Though I think a little color would do you good. The world’s more than just black and grey, you know.”

Tiff shook her head. Enough of that nonsense. She watched the two matching wristwatches return to their respective desks.

“Why is everybody so caught up on what happened at the bowling alley, anyway?” Tiff grumbled.

“Girl, are you serious?” Candice asked. “It’s like, the biggest thing that’s ever happened in Setma. Ever.”

“Did you forget that there was a Rift in Santa Ronda two weekends ago?”

“Well, no,” Candice waved her hand airily, “But that’s there, not here. Boulevard Bowl is like, down the street? And real supers actually showed up! How is that not exciting?!”

“You’re acting like we’re some tiny town in the middle of nowhere,” Tiff laughed.

“Might as well be,” Candice sighed dramatically. “It’s not like we’re actually in Los Angeles.”

“Yeah, but we’re not in Chino, either.”

Candice nodded along before narrowing her eyes.

“What’s in Chino?”

“Cows,” Tiff said confidently. She had it on good authority.

“Yeah,” Candice snorted, “Okay, so.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fine. Give me the details and I can tell everybody.”

“What?” Tiff asked. That seemed like a real non-sequiter. Candice gave her a dull look.

“You were there, yeah? And you saw what happened. So gimme. Tell me what’s good.”

“You want me to tell you what happened at the bowling alley?” Tiff repeated.

“Hey, if you want to keep ignoring everybody who comes up and asks about it in a roundabout way, then be my guest. But they aren’t gonna stop hounding you unless you give them something. And I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna give. So tell me. I’ll send some good words down the rumor mill and the boys’ll be off your back.”

“You’d do that?” Tiff asked. It sounded like a whole lot of work.

“Of course,” Candice said grandly. “We’ll put it on your tab as my Sidekick.”

“Right,” Tiff chuckled. “But really, there isn’t much to tell. Some normal-looking dudes in normal-looking clothes tried breaking into an ATM. The Troubleshooters showed up and it was over before I knew it. Couldn’t have been more than 15, 20 minutes. Really, worse stuff happens on a daily basis and nobody ever brings that up.”

“Yeah,” Candice agreed, “But nobody cares when somebody steals a Slurpee because the Troubleshooters don’t show up. Didn’t you see? Hotline was there!”

Tiff tilted her head and she didn’t even need to say anything for Candice to groan.

“Tiff,” Candice drawled out. “You were there. Please tell me you know who Hotline is.”

Tiff tilted her head the other way and Candice nearly faceplanted her desk.

“Tall?” Candice asked, as if that should ring a bell. “Wavy brown hair? Baby blues that will melt you into a puddle? Got abs for days?”

Tiff squinted. They were talking about a person, right? Candice started to look worried.

“He’s got minor speed powers? Wears a blue and yellow super-suit?”

“Wait,” Tiff’s eyes widened. She did recognize that! “He was the guy who showed up just to pose for the cameras! He didn’t even do anything!”

“Okay,” Candice said, looking intensely relieved. “I’m glad we don’t need to send you to, I don’t know, remedial fangirling. He’s at least a solid 8.5 on the hunk-o-meter. Maybe 8.7. Depends on who you ask.”

Tiff stared at Candice in disbelief. Hotline had nothing on a certain doctor for the Adventurer’s Union.

“So,” she said slowly, “Are you telling me people only want to know what happened because a good-looking guy was present?”

“Not just good-looking,” Candice denied. “He’s eligible, too.”

“Candice,” Tiff said seriously. “He’s, like, 30.”

Candice merely shrugged.

“Some like them a little older.”

Tiff felt her mouth slowly fall open. Candice seemed entirely unconcerned with the actual robbery…and more about what the guy who showed up afterward looked like. Candice, realizing that they were having a breakdown in communication, took on a teaching pose.

“Tiff, let me tell you the first thing about being a hero,” she said matter-of-factly. “Good PR. You need it.”

Tiff waited, expecting more to come, but that was it.

“Really?” Tiff gave her an unimpressed look. “The first thing?”

“Totes,” Candice nodded firmly. “Look, running into the burning building is great and all, but if nobody knows about it, nobody’s going to care? Sure, yeah, okay, putting down huge monsters and stopping the bad guys is a pretty big deal, but you also gotta save the little kitties from the trees too. Why do you think the DMA spends so much money on publicity? Why they’ve always got a hero on speed dial for whenever cameras show up? They need a face-man. It’s the world we live in, Tiff. You don’t eat if you don’t get paid, and nothing sells more than clicks.”

​

Candice’s words stuck with Tiff all throughout the day. Fortunately, the girl had also concocted some sort of wild story that satisfied all the rumor-wolves, as people stopped hounding Tiff about her involvement after lunch. Or maybe they just got bored of running into her cold, uninterested face as she stonewalled them. Tiff didn’t know how popular people handled it. A few hours of…talking…to her peers and she was mentally fatigued. Honestly, she couldn’t wait until tomorrow when everything blew over and the bowling alley became old news. Then she could slip back into obscurity and concentrate on making it through the day unscathed.

Was that what heroing was really all about? Was that what the System was all about? Fame and glory?

On one hand, Tiff could believe it. That would explain why the System was so adamant about giving her so much Infamy. According to her Stats sheet, she was the most Notorious person in the school. Likely in the whole city…maybe even in the state. Like Superheroes, Supervillains were rare, and when they popped up, they dominated all the headlines. X good guy does this, Y bad guy does that. If there was a “super” in front of it, it was in the news. The whole world seemed to revolve around them.

To be fair, most of the time it was for good reason. The most famous Superhero on the planet right now was Big Time, and where they went, the world moved. Not just because they were S-tier across the board. Big Time could counteract natural disasters, defeat armies, and take down giant monsters. They were also diametrically opposed to Supervillains. But the villains Big Time fought made last night’s ATM robbery look like kindergarten playtime. Big Time was on the scale of foiling extinction-level events cooked up by mad scientists in their evil-volcano lairs.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

…evil lairs in a volcano? Were volcanoes inherently evil? Maybe this was something to investigate.

That, compared to the showy, tabloid nature of Fame and Notoriety, seemed like the true calling of a hero. But Tiff couldn’t ignore the fact that the last two times she had been irresistibly focused on heroes, she’d been shown the former, not the latter. Touchdown at the Rift, assuring the good people of Santa Ronda that giant pillbugs were no match for Glory Days, and Hotline at the bowling alley. Tiff wondered if there were good marketing options for people looking to sponsor hero teams.

Not that she was ever likely to find out, since she was a V, not an H. People like Pepsi and Coke probably didn’t want to be associated with mass murder and mayhem. Not that Tiff was either…but thinking about it, Tiff didn’t actually know what her Class was supposed to do. Yes, it was [Dungeon Master], and yes, it gave her fascinating and creepy insights into the whole city, but that was it. She didn’t shoot lasers from her eyes, she couldn’t crush armored cars in her hands like a tin can, and she couldn’t move at the speed of light.

Neither could most people, but if she was talking hyperbole, she might as well go big. The fact of the matter was, Tiff was feeling a little bitter, a bit stressed, and a whole lot annoyed by the time the last bell rang and she wandered down the halls to herd herself onto the bus.

Once again Amy met her out front, but after taking a single look at Tiff’s dark face and the imaginary thundercloud hovering over her head, she sobered up. She shooed away several busibodies who were rehashing the same old details from last night to hover protectively over her big sister.

“Day not go so well?” Amy tried making small talk as they settled into a seat. Tiff huffed and shook her head.

“I think I’m hangry.”

“Ooof,” Amy nodded hugely. “That’ll do it every time.”

“Of all days, why couldn’t Tori pick us up today?” Tiff lamented. Not that she’d actually tried to get a hold of the biggest of sisters, but she was cranky and last week spoiled her.

“Right?” Amy agreed. “Then we wouldn’t even have to walk.”

As soon as the bus pulled up to their stop and they got vomited out the doors, Amy opened up. She’d obviously enjoyed the spotlight today, but even she had her limits of how much attention she could absorb. As such, she unloaded all her complaints about the day, from her classes to her classmates, to the homework she was supposed to be doing but really didn’t want to do, to any little rabbit trail her mind seemed to wander down. Tiff drank it all in. Unlike when anybody else tried to talk to her at school, with maybe the exception of Candice in the last two weeks, Tiff didn’t mind being a trauma dump. One of the few good things she’d ever say about herself was that she was a good listener. Being raised alongside a bunch of noisy, energetic troublemakers made her really good at it. Tiff let Amy vent, and if some of the ramblings went in one ear and out the other, she felt like she should be excused.

Things were looking up when they rounded the last corner before their house, when something peculiar caught their eye.

“Hey,” Amy said, poking Tiff while also pointing forward. “Tori’s home.”

Sure enough, Victoria’s car was parked in front of their house, looking like it passed its prime last century.

“That’s strange,” Tiff said. “If she wasn’t at work, I thought she’d come get us.”

“Maybe she got occupied?” Amy wondered, bounding up the steps. She unlocked the door and walked inside without giving it a second thought.

Something didn’t seem right to Tiff. For one, Victoria’s shoes weren’t present in the entryway. While it might not seem odd to others, one of the VanDyne customs was to leave their shoes by the door. They’d usually go around in socks or slippers, or maybe rock the casual barefooted freedom. So, Tori obviously could be using her shoes, because the family wasn’t weird about never wearing shoes in the house, but chances were, if she was home, the shoes would be by the door.

What made Tiff think something wasn’t right about all this was the fact that Tiff could hear scuffling coming from deeper inside the house. Amy obviously heard it too, because she tensed up and clutched Tiff’s arm tightly. Had somebody found them out? Did Haxus sniff out her identity and decide he wanted to blackmail her? Or maybe it was somebody related to the thugs at the bowling alley? Tiff didn’t know how either of those possibilities could ever be real, but her mind was reeling.

“Tiff,” Amy said seriously. “Do we run?”

“I-,” Tiff began, but a voice called out to make her pause.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” said a deep, modulated voice. Victoria’s voice. Tiff’s pulse quickened. That sounded like it was coming from her room! Why would Victoria be fully armored up…in Tiff’s room? Unless…was somebody attacking her core?!

Without stopping to give it another thought, Tiff dashed past Amy, ignoring her sister’s cry as she broke free of her grasp.

And as soon as Tiff skidded to a halt, banging into her doorframe, it felt like her heart stopped too.

Tiff’s room was a mess, and not because she left it that way. Some sort of scuffle had just taken place, judging from how several small trinkets that usually lived on her shelves were rolling around on the floor, and as a whole, her room looked like it had just been hit by a whirlwind.

In the middle of the room, however, was where Tiff’s eyes were glued. Her dad was sitting in her computer chair, bound tightly by a rough length of rope, struggling desperately to break free. His normally well-kept hair was spiking in all directions, the top two buttons of his collared shirt were busted, and one of the sleeves was torn off. The left lens of his glasses was fractured, and a small trickle of blood was dribbling out of his right nostril.

In great contrast, however, was Tiff’s older sister. Victoria was wearing her full black armor, covered head to toe in sleek protection, not a scuff to be seen. More than ever before, she looked like a genuine Villain, especially as she tightened the rope around Rick’s chest.

“Tori,” Rick was saying out of heavy, labored breaths, “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“I’m sorry, Dad, but it really does.”

Even though her voice was changed, Tiff could hear the sorrow in it.

“I’ve got no choice.”

“We always have a choice, Tori,” Rick said, “It’s what makes us better than mindless…ah.”

Just then, Rick finally noticed Tiff slamming into the wall, with Amy right on her heels.