Vidya jerked awake and grabbed her new phone from the nightstand. No messages, no missed calls. She frowned. Five days had passed since she left a voicemail on Celestro's answering machine, and they still hadn't called back. The suspense was killing her.

Life went on as usual, but Vidya was distracted. In art class that day she found herself losing focus and sketching Flamethrower and Lady Marvel. The prompt was to practice drawing flowers, but her imagination took over and before she knew it, the two women of the Marvels were on the page.

Amber noticed. "Somebody's suddenly interested in superheroes," she whispered.

Vidya closed her sketchbook. She'd always been interested, but Amber was right: it was different now.

Amber frowned. "I wasn't trying to make fun of you."

"I know."

"They looked really good."

Vidya nodded, turning red. To distract herself from the embarrassment, she reached for her phone and was surprised to see that there was an incoming call. From Celestro.

She immediately raised her hand. "Can I go to the bathroom, please?"

"You should've gone during lunch. Is it an emergency?"

You have no idea. "Yes."

"Fine. Take the hall pass."

Vidya ran to the bathroom, which—for some God-forsaken reason—smelled like rotten lettuce, but it was thankfully empty. She locked herself in a stall and looked at her phone. They'd hung up...without leaving a voicemail.

She dialed the number, hoping they would be kind enough to forgive her for missing their call. Pick up, she pleaded in her head, while the bathroom's empty. Pick up pick up pick up.

The call connected. "This is Celestro's service and information line, Emika Tanaka speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi! My name's Vidya Khan, and I—"

"You're the girl who called and claimed she can fly?"

She sounded irritated, and Vidya realized that Celestro was so famous, they must get hundreds of stupid prank calls every day. Of course they took five days to call back, and of course they wouldn't take her seriously.

"I can fly," Vidya insisted. "And I need to talk about it. In person."

There was a sigh on the other end, followed by rapid typing and a few clicks of a mouse. Finally Emika said, "Come in tomorrow, five in the afternoon. Any later than five-ten, and you lose your chance."

"Of course," Vidya rambled, "I completely understand, I'll be on time! Thank you!"

Emika hung up without saying anything else.

Vidya let out a heavy sigh of relief. Her muscles relaxed so much, it felt like she was melting. She got out of the stall and ran lukewarm water over her hands, nodding at her reflection.

"This is good," she murmured. "This is good."

_____________________

Celestro's headquarters was the second-tallest skyscraper in Los Angeles. Vidya stood at the foot of the steps leading up to the entrance, working up the courage. People streamed in and out of the doors: some of them were heroes in their flashy supersuits, but most were regular employees. Not a single one of them would notice or care if she ditched the appointment. It would be so easy: all she had to do was turn around and walk away.

But she braced herself and went inside.

The lobby was gorgeous. Wide and open, neatly decorated, slightly busy. In the center of the floor was the company's logo, and hung up on one wall were enormous black-and-white pictures of the Marvels, each one looking seriously off into the distance. Flamethrower was the only one with even a hint of a smile.

Before Vidya could make her way to the help desk, someone tapped her shoulder. The woman cocked her head and asked, "Vidya Khan?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Emika. Welcome to Celestro. Follow me, please."

Vidya followed her, lagging a step behind. A security officer nodded at Emika and said nothing as they walked into the hallway he was guarding. The color scheme matched the lobby, and hung on these walls were pictures of the other heroes Celestro employed, the ones who weren't world-famous but still made headlines every now and then. One frame was larger than the rest: the group photo of the Golden Four. They were another elite team, younger and newer than the Marvels.

Emika led her into an office, and they sat down across from each other at the desk. Vidya lowered her chair so her feet touched the ground. She was so nervous that she'd passed into a state of calm, but it was delicate. One slip-up, and she might just faint.

"Let's start with preliminary questions," Emika said, pulling out her keyboard. "Full name?"

"Vidya Khan."

"And you live in this city?"

"Yes."

"You look young. Are you a minor?"

"I'm seventeen."

"Do your parents know you're here?"

Vidya swallowed. "I thought they'd freak out, so...no."

Emika finished typing and stretched her hands. "You said in the message that you think you're a natural-born super, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you know the difference between an Alter and a natural-born?"

"Of course I do." You couldn't live in Los Angeles without knowing almost everything about the supers.

"Let me explain anyway, because you'd be surprised how badly people screw it up." Emika leaned back in her chair. "An Alter is a super who gains their powers from something like a freak accident or an experiment. A natural-born is a super who naturally grows into their powers, which usually manifest between the ages of eight and fourteen. It's not hereditary, and you can't tell it's going to happen until it happens."

Vidya nodded. That was the textbook definition.

"Seventeen is an atypical age for manifestation," Emika continued. "So are you sure you're natural-born? Alter makes more sense."

If there were any way to test it, which there wasn't, Vidya knew the results wouldn't come up Alter. Did she survive a freak accident? No. Was she experimented on? No. Did she come into contact with radiation? No. Her power had come exactly when she needed it, but somehow she felt like it had always been there, waiting.

"I'm sure," she said finally. "It's natural."

"I'm disinclined to believe you. People lying and claiming to have superpowers isn't uncommon, I'm afraid to say."

"I'm not lying!" Vidya exclaimed, shocked by sudden condescending tone.

"There's only one way to prove it."

Vidya had known this was coming. She stood up and pushed the chair back to give herself some space. She'd never gone so much as to actually fly, only levitate—and maybe a little levitation was all she could do—but it would be enough to prove she was a super.

"Go ahead," Emika urged. "Do it."

Vidya closed her eyes and breathed slowly. When she thought she felt the sensation of suspension, she opened her eyes, but her feet were still on the floor. "I..."

"Well?"

"I'm just nervous," Vidya said, flustered.

Emika watched her struggle for a few seconds before sighing. "Come with me."

She quickly left the room. Vidya scrambled to follow, afraid she was being escorted to the exit, but Emika crossed the lobby, went down a staircase, and then down another hallway. This one was bare: no potted plants, no portraits on the walls. A vault-like door stood at the end, and Emika slid a key card into a slot and pushed it open.

Inside was a circular room that lit up a soft blue once the door was closed behind them. The ceiling was high, lined with stripes of thick blue and thin black. It reminded Vidya of a futuristic video game.

Against one wall was a metal rack holding about a dozen vials. Emika plucked one out of its hole and held it in front of her. It was small and slim, containing only a few milliliters of clear liquid.

"What's that?" Vidya asked.

"First, are you willing to sign an NDA if I tell you what this is?"

Vidya nodded without hesitation. She needed answers; promising to keep her mouth shut was a fair price to pay.

"It will make whatever superpower you have go hyperactive," Emika explained, "regardless if you're too nervous to do it yourself. If you can fly like you say so, this will prove it to me."

Vidya raised an eyebrow. "So it's a superpower steroid?"

"Essentially. It's temporary, and there are no harmful side effects. We use it solely for testing purposes, never for continuous use or amplified superhero performance. And the room is built for your safety, so don't worry about hurting yourself."

Vidya took the stopper off the vial and looked into the liquid. Now, she was hesitating. Was she really going to drink a steroid to prove she had superpowers, only to end up moving on with her life afterward? Was it worth it?

Emika tapped her foot impatiently.

Vidya tipped the vial toward her mouth. An overwhelmingly bitter taste spread across her tongue, and there was so little liquid that she wasn't sure if she managed to swallow any of it. Her throat started to tingle, and she coughed to get it to stop.

Emika slipped the empty vial into her pocket and waited. Vidya coughed again. The tingling had spread all over her body, and before she could ask if that was normal, she launched off the ground and slammed into the ceiling.

It didn't hurt. The ceiling wasn't as hard as it looked—it was like bouncing off a firm pillow. Vidya screamed as she went hurtling back toward the ground, but then she went up again, unable to control her direction. Her superpower was going insane, pulling her all over the place.

Emika's jaw dropped. "You weren't lying," she said, more to herself than to Vidya. "You manifested at seventeen. That's..."

Weird, I know. Vidya's stomach lurched, and she clamped her mouth shut, horrified at the thought of throwing up. Her hands had gone completely numb, a strange, cold sensation weaving in between her fingers.

She watched in awe as an icicle formed in her left hand and shot out like an arrow.

Emika screeched and dove for cover. The icicle shattered against the wall where her head had just been. "I thought your only power was flight!"

"That's what I thought!"

The steroid wore off all at once. Her limbs grew heavy, her hands grew warm, and she fell to the ground, gasping on her back. The world went blurry for a moment and then cleared. She sat up slowly, staring at the shards of ice littering the floor.

"Maybe it was just the steroid," she suggested.

Emika shook her head. "It doesn't give powers, it only enhances them. You're cryokinetic—you just didn't know it."

Flight and cryokinesis. There were legitimate heroes who had powers less than that. Vidya swallowed the bile rising in her throat and said, "I don't like the steroid."

Emika tiptoed over the ice to help her up. "It's the last you'll see of it."

Good. Vidya never wanted to fly again. How did people practice when they could go careening off like that? Even without the steroid, it couldn't be easy.

The vault door suddenly swung open. The woman standing there was breathing hard, as if she'd run here. She straightened her blazer as she walked over, careful not to step on the ice.

Emika cleared her throat. "Vidya, this is Amanda Fox, vice president of Celestro."

"And director of superhero activities," Fox added with a laugh. She clasped her hands together excitedly. "Emika here tells me that you've manifested at seventeen?"

Vidya blinked. She never saw Emika take out her phone; it must've happened when she was being yanked through the air. "Yes, I did."

Fox shook her head emphatically. "That's rare. Incredible."

Vidya didn't know how to take the compliment. Rare, sure, but why incredible?

"I think you and I should talk," Fox said.

Vidya only wanted to get her questions answered, and Emika alone was more than enough. But Fox looked so intrigued, so adamant, and Vidya realized that talking to her, the director of superhero activities, might be exactly what she needed.

"I'd love to talk," Vidya said.

"Excellent." Fox winked. "I promise it will be worth it."