Page 32 of All Superheroes Need PR
“Gonna move my stuff in tomorrow.”
Her eyes get bright, but at the same time, she freezes. “I ... you are?”
I think about asking her if that’s all right with her, but the coward in me won’t. “Yeah.”
“Okay. There’s just ... I ... there’s just one thing.”
“Whatever it is, it’s fine.”
“Okay, but I should tell you ...”
“Ms. Theriot—Vanessa, can I call you Vanessa?” Dr. Larsen busts into the room. I’m familiar enough with her to be comfortable with her looking Nessa over. She’s been my doc the past month, making me do stupid physicals but making the stupid a little less annoying by being a weirdo. She’s an older white woman with graying blond hair that looks as crazy as Nessa’s does now, even without having been buffeted about by the wind.
“Um, yes. Vanessa’s great. Thanks, Dr.—”
“You can call me Emily. I’m happy to say that you don’t have a concussion. Your scans came back clean. You don’t have any fractures either, but that is a pretty bad sprain you have in your ankle, and I’m going to give you a note requiring you to work from home for the next week.” My chest is tingling. I’m starting to like this doctor.
“Stay off your feet. This is a grade 2 sprain, not a minor one that would improve with a little stretching and rest. I’ll give you a wrap you need to wear consistently for two weeks. Even if you’re feeling better, don’t take off the wrap.” She shakes a structured black wrap at Vanessa, and I smirk at the angry look that crosses Nessa’s face.
“I can’t be off my feet for that long.”
“Well, then, I think my surgeons may have a little extra time. Let’s cut it off and get you an implant, and you can sprint on out of here with your new bionic leg. What do you think?”
Vanessa frowns, her brow sinking low. I cover my mouth, but my ensuing laughter is mixed with the strange reverberations of my lungs and chest. In the past month, I’ve heard myself audibly release what sounds like low thunder or a cat’s purr for the first time in my life—at least, in my living memory.
Dr. Larsen must hear it, too, because she turns around and gives me a look I know well. “Is thatyou?”
“Yeah.”
She scratches her bangs, and they stand up away from her forehead. “You didn’t tell me you had this ability in our first meeting.”
“I didn’t know I had it in our first meeting.”
“You didn’t tell me about this ability in our last meeting either.”
To that I just shrug rather than lie outright. Dr. Larsen comes over to me and places her stethoscope on my chest. The sound dies.
“Is he okay?” Vanessa says, doing what Dr. Larsen just expressly told hernotto do by trying to edge off the bed and place her feet on the floor. She looks concerned, but my irritation with her burns hotter.
“Don’t move. Get back in bed,” I snap.
She freezes with a large-eyed stare and, strangely, without protest, obeys. Dr. Larsen gives a good nod to Nessa over her shoulder, but it’s clear she’s distracted. “You’re making the sound again,” she tells me right before she presses the whole side of her face against my sternum and holds my arms when I try to back away. “This is incredible. What muscles are you activating to make this sound?” she asks.
I shake my head and frown, feeling uncomfortable telling her that this is Nessa’s doing in front of Nessa herself. “I’m not aware when I’m about to make the sound and don’t know how I’m making it.”
“You’ve made it your whole life? There’s nothing about it in the reports.”
“No. It’s a recent thing.”
“Like your eyes? Did the two start around the same time, about a month ago?”
“Goodbye, Emily. Is Vanessa free to go?” I say, pushing past her with some force to reach Vanessa’s bedside. I take the brace, shove it in the pocket of my hoodie, and then slip my arms around her while she stares up at me with pinched eyebrows. “I’m gonna lift you now.”
“I can walk.”
“No, you can’t. Or did you lose your hearing in the fall?” I pick her up and hold her firmly against my chest. I like the weight of her there. It feels right. I notice, much to my surprise, that the sound of the rumbling in my chest is getting louder.
Nessa scowls up at me. “I need to go to the office to get my things.”
