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It's difficult to get anything done with a city demanding your help all the time. She had been on her way to the grocery store for a much needed Dr. Pepper when her phone buzzed in her jacket.
'Faerie Girl!' said Mike, sounding frantic with every call. 'We need you at the end of Compton's Boulevard. A fire's broken out and our ladders can't make it to the top story. A few people are trapped.'
'I'm on it,' she sighed as she hung up. Mike was the chief of the city's fire department. She knew him only because she'd saved him from a watery grave that would have been his car under the river: she became known as Faerie Girl after that. Mike was a nice dude, he was just too much of a nurturer. He had gotten her a phone to keep a not-so-hidden tab on Faerie Girl; who was she going to call anyway? His wife always nagged her with a plate of food and a place to sleep.
She quickly went into an alley and took off her jacket, revealing a specially made shirt with long slits in the back. Then she let her wings grow out.
The process was painful, like having four long knives coming out of the middle of your back, followed by two glass screens cutting through your skin from between your shoulder blades. She put on a green mask the chief's daughter had made for her. She'd saved the little girl, too, the little brat. She only bothered with the mask only because she wanted to live a somewhat normal life, like every other supernatural freak show. And living in a city the size of L.A. was full of things to keep her busy. Shootings, riots, natural disasters and accidents were all part of the routine, and they had been for the last fifty years.
Half a century was a long time for a fifteen-year-old. She only started to show herself this year, though she'd been around for quite a while without anyone knowing. It was peaceful, doing good deeds anonymously. Until she'd saved Mike and his daughter that stupid May seventeenth, and he had told everyone about her, the bigmouth.
Now she was a 'superhero', though, the idea wasn't so super to her. She was constantly nagged by press and admirers. She didn't live anywhere, no secret lair for Faerie Girl. Oh sure, Batman had his own hideout, and he didn't even have an superpowers! Just a suit and gadgets; and, of course, lots of money. No one bugged him that much. Faerie Girl couldn't go anywhere without someone needing assistance. It was really annoying.
Just like the name. Faerie Girl. Since when did faeries have black wings with razor sharp spikes at their ends? People at first thought that she was some sort of villain. She never thought she was a faerie, just happened to look like one. She sometimes did wish she knew what she was or where she came from, then quickly forgot about it.
Faerie Girl quickly flew out of the alley, ignoring the gasps at surprise. She would have taken her time if she hadn't noticed the building engulfed in bellowing fire and smoke. The water from the hoses weren't reaching high enough. Four people were waving their arms from three different windows. She groaned; two of them were overweight. Though her super strength was handy, it didn't help that her arms weren't wide enough.
She went to the first woman who was screaming bloody murder as Faerie Girl brought her down and handed her to awaiting medics. The overweight couple were difficult to keep hold of. They squirmed so much she'd nearly dropped them on a fire truck. The last person was on the highest floor. She was flying up to him as he disappeared into the building. She assumed he'd passed out. The fire was blazing madly where he'd just been standing
She hurried up and through the window. The fire was intense, everything was burning, and the heat was hotter than an oven. She noticed the unconscious boy on the floor. Faerie Girl knelt down beside him; he'd stopped breathing. She quickly gave him CPR, trying hard to ignore his perfect face. Oh! How pathetic! The first time her lips ever touch a boy's was to wake him up! Some first kiss!
Another setback at being a superhero: no time for a relationship' or to even start one.
He opened his eyes and they both gasped; he for air, she from shock. His eyes were a stunning green, shining more brightly than the flames that surrounded them.
'Who are you?' he asked weakly. He was young, probably her age. His voice was that perfect tone between boyhood and manhood; her heart skipped a beat. She picked him up easily.
Wow, this dude works out she thought herself.
'Where are you taking me?' he asked. He looked at her slender arm under his knees and the other around his waist, surprised at how easily she held him. She could feel the six pack at the tip of her fingers.
'To medics. You probably shouldn't talk.' The room was filling up with smoke and it was hard to see. She flew out the window quickly as a movie-like explosion sounded behind them. His hold tightened around her, and she blushed; she was glad for the mask.
'What's your name?' she asked. She flew down slowly; he felt good in her arms.
'Todd.' She liked the name. But Faerie Girl was sure Brad Pitt suited him fine, too. 'What's yours?' he asked.
'La--just call me Faerie Girl,' she said quickly.
'Why the fake name?' His voice was more clearer and his body was less tensed.
'That's how everyone knows me,' she replied. She had to suppress a groan as she landed softly on the ground. A stretcher rushed to them as she reluctantly lowered Todd onto it. He gave her a smile that made her heart skip another beat as they loaded him into an ambulance.
He's just fine she wanted to say. Nothing was broken, he was conscious; did he really have to go to the hospital?
She wanted to talk to him more. That was her need. Ugh. Faerie Girl was not much of a friendly or polite person and certainly did not like displaying any human emotion.
'Good job, Layla,' Mike said as he put a hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged it off. 'Shut up,' she hissed. 'Do you want everyone to hear?' Everyone in question was busy attending to the injured. The police were busy keeping bystanders out of the way as the firefighters continued to throw shoot water at the flaming tower. No one was nearby.
'They can't hear us,' he said, chuckling. 'So, how was that boy you saved?' He smiled like he knew something. He looked like the typical American father should look like; mid thirties, small crows feet appearing when he smiled.
He folded his arms across his chest and smiled more. 'Oh, I just noticed the look you were giving him.'
'What look?' Layla asked skeptically.
He chuckled. 'His name is Todd O'Brian. He goes to East High School. He's fifteen and is a junior.'
'And you're telling me this why?'
He shrugged. 'I know his father, and he's a good kid. I also know where he hangs out' if you want to know.'
'Why would I want to know?' she asked. He gave her a fatherly look that she always found annoying. She was glad she wasn't his kid. He was too caring, too loving. It made her nauseous.
'Do you want to come over for dinner? Sara would love it,' he said. Sara, his desperate housewife
'Would you quit your charity?' she asked. She flew away before he could offer her a bed and a day at the park. Unexpectedly, she was glad of the information she had received of Todd O-so beautiful Brian.
She quickly flew back to the alley she had been at before the call. The shirt was behind the dumpster as she quickly grew her wings back in. It was the same painful sensation, just in reverse. Slipping her mask back into her bag, she casually stepped into the traffic on the sidewalk.
Mike was a good guy, Layla respected that. She just hated the love he tried to rub off on her. He told her once that she was too tough for her age. She'd told him that that wasn't her fault. Unlike him, she didn't have a family; she didn't care. Layla had grown up alone, on the streets, and did good deeds anonymously to pass the time. She had never been taken care of, so she always refused Mike's offer for a place to stay. Layla could hardly stand the relationship that was family.
Layla entered a mom-and-pop store, not expecting a masked man with a gun. He was pointing it at the elderly Chinese couple behind the counter, yelling for them to hurry the f**k up.
The guy noticed Layla and turned the gun on her. The elderly couple continued to hold each other with fear.
'Inside, now!' he yelled. Layla walked toward him instead, her hands casually down at her side. 'Get on the ground!' he shouted. He was backing away, his gun shaking slightly.
'Please put the gun down,' she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
'Shut up and get on the ground, girlie!' he yelled. He found his lost courage and put the tip of the gun to her forehead; she remained still and rolled her eyes. 'Get. On. The. Ground.' The man was really angry now.
'Put the gun down,' she sighed. 'You don't want to get hurt.'
The guy laughed nervously. 'What are you going to do?'
Before he could react, Layla expelled the blue force from herself. It was a clear blue thing that was like a huge gust of wind, except that it was solid, like having a brick wall slam into you. The man was hit square in the chest and was blown into the wall. He fell to the floor, unconscious. Layla went to the refrigerators, took a Dr Pepper, and dropped her last two dollars on the counter.
'Keep the change,' she said to the shocked couple.
Layla ambled along the sidewalk, going no where in particular. Judging from the placement of the sun, she thought it was around four in the afternoon. She continued down the street, sipping Dr Pepper and humming to herself as she thought about where East High School was located.