Anyway...here's my final excerpt for this month! It's really long (really, really long) but I had so much fun writing it and I think that it's great character development. Plus (I think) it's funny. Here you go!
“That soup was really good,” I say, setting the bowl down on Peter’s counter.
He puts both dishes in the sink and says, “Thanks. It’s not my recipe. My mom wanted to make French onion soup this time and didn’t have a recipe for it. She found this online and we never used anything else again.”
“It was fantastic.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Don’t you mean ‘Thank you,” I laugh.
“Why would I thank you? I just told you that the credit isn’t mine.”
“True. But it was the best French onion soup I’ve ever had. Just don’t tell my mom that.”
“Takes pride in her recipe?”
“Well, it’s not that it’s bad or anything. Just not as good as this one. The recipe did come from my grandmother, though. So you have to respect that it’s a family tradition. I’ll probably ditch it at some point and use this one instead. You’ve got to give me the recipe.”
“Sure, I’ll send you an email and link you to the site.” He takes the Italian take-out we’d ordered from the fridge and puts it into the oven to warm.
“You guys must be good cooks,” I say.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, French onion soup isn’t typical bachelor pad dinner.”
He chuckles. “Well, I have company. But, yeah, I’m kind of into cooking. As long as you don’t tell anyone. Because I will have to deny it.”
“Why?” I giggle.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “It’s not good for the bachelor image.”
“Maybe not to other guys. Trust me, girls will find it impressive. Especially when they taste it. What else do you like to make.”
“I like to experiment,” he says. “I’ve done bacon pancakes and a ton of different types of omelets, some casseroles. Cinnamon potato pie.”
“Ugh, that sounds awful. What made you even think to try that?”
“A prank, actually. My lovely younger siblings swapped the apple pieces I’d cut up for my Thanksgiving pie with sliced potato chunks.”
“Oh no.”
“Yes.”
“That’s terrible. What happened.”
Laughing, he tells me, “I didn’t know what had happened until after I’d made it. Turns out it’s not so bad. It became our new traditional pie. Well, we make at least two kinds because it’s apparently not a taste for everyone.”
Looking at the fridge I see two photos clipped side by side with decorative magnets. “What’s this?”
“Oh, my mom. That first picture was our family photo taken when she was pregnant with Candice.
It’s such a cute photo. The entire family is standing in front of a tent and a fire pit. Peter, who looks so much younger even though this photo can only be four or five years old, is dumping water over Riley’s head. Bea and Molly look on in horror. Little baby Evan is clapping his hands and his face is full of chocolate cake. As the picture’s being taken, he’s smearing some onto Molly’s face. Mr. and Mrs. stand behind the wild troop of children while pregnant Ellie holds Timothy and Mr. Holds puppy Rufus, who’s squirming to jump on poor Bea under him.
“Your mom went camping when she was pregnant? That’s brave,” I say.
“We were camping in the back yard. My parents weren’t the outdoorsy type. That’s why the tent has nearly collapsed and our fire has more smoke coming from it than heat or light. Like a toxic fog machine.”
In the picture on the right, Mr is missing, but Ellie stands in the back holding Timothy’s hand and holding Candace in her arms. Rufus sits on the ground in front of her surrounded by the kids. He’s trying to lick the cake out of Evan’s hands while Evan smudges some onto his sisters’ faces. Riley is soaking wet and cringing, even though the water in the picture hasn’t hit her yet; Bea is wincing as Molly tugs on her bright orange braid. The fire is noticeably better in the newer photo, though the tent still looks like a safety hazard.
“Last year,” he explains, “Mom thought it would be cool to reenact some of our old photos. This was the best one. She has it on the mantle at home and she gave these to me, with the magnets, so I could put them on display too.”
“I think it’s adorable. It’s too bad I could never convince my family to do something like that. Mom would think it’s a waste of time. I might be able to get Tiff to go along with it, but I might have to bribe her.”
He laughs along with me. “As you can see, not all of the kids were cooperative.”
“Why’s Riley so wet already?” I wonder.
He chuckles. “It took a couple of tries to get a picture where the kids were at least partly reenacting what they were all doing. That and I added ice to the water.”
“That’s horrible!” I laugh.
He glances at the microwave clock, so I ask, “You want to go get the tv ready? I’ll make sure that the food doesn’t burn.”
He leaves the kitchen and I watch the oven. It smells so good. I’m glad we ordered from his usual place instead of the one that Mom and Dad always ordered from.
“Quick, it’s coming on!” Peter calls from the living room.
I dart out of his apartment kitchen with a take-out container of pasta in one hand and his personal pizza pan pie in the other.
“We still have a few minutes,” I say. But by the time we settle down, the show is already starting.
Agents of SHIELD comes on and I’m just geeking out and embarrassing myself. But I always get this excited on Tuesday nights.
I cross my legs under me, trying to get comfortable. I end up doing more watching than eating and I still have half a tray of past by the time the show is over.
“What do you think?” Peter asks me grinning.
“Oh what?” I ask, “The show? I love it. I adore it. It’s probably the reason for my existence.”
He doesn’t seem to get my humor the way Tiff would, but he brushes the odd comment off. “ I knew that it was going to be Garrett. I never trusted him from the start.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, but there was just something shifty about him. Sitwell, too, though I thought that he just didn’t trust Coulson. Like Hand.”
“You know, I always thought that Hand was going to turn out to be a traitor,” I say.
“Before this episode? Why’s that?”
“Because of her animosity,” I guess. “She just seemed like she was constantly watching Coulson’s team. Maybe a little more closely than I thought was normal?”
“There was always something I didn’t trust about Garrett,” he says. “I really didn’t see Ward coming, though.”
“I shipped Skyward so hard. I really wanted them to become a couple.”
Peter shakes his head. “Nah, I just didn’t.”
“But why not? Weren’t they super cute? You know, before he started killing SHIELD agents?”
“I’ll tell you what, I thought that the Whedons might have turned the tables on us and put Fitz with Skye.”
I let out a gasp. “Oh, no. Come on, Peter. What about Fitzsimmons? It’s practically already canon.”
“Their friendship and their partnership is. But I think Fitz had a crush on Skye when she first joined the team. Who knows, they still might end up together.”
“Blasphemy,” I tell him. “Fitzsimmons is real. There are no other ships with either of them. Not at all.”
“What about Trimmons?”
“No! I dislike this pairing of names! Fitzsimmons and Fitzsimmons only.”
“Well your shipping senses are a bit off,” he says, “since you already failed with Skyward. So what makes you think that your judgment is any better than mine?”
“Because it is!” I say. “How could you ship Skye and Fitz? That’s so wrong!”
“How’s it wrong?” he defends. “It’s exactly the same as shipping Simmons with Fitz. They’re colleagues and good friends.”
“Simmons is so much closer with Fitz.”
“She’s also oblivious to the feelings that he’s way too shy to tell her about. As much as he may like her, if he never says anything, how will she know?”
“But they’d make a perfect nerdy couple!”
“So nerds have to date nerds? And besides, Skye is a nerd, she’s just a different type. Her field isn’t anything super sciency, but she’s into technology just like Fitz is.”
“No! No, stop it. Stop trying to destroy my ship.”
“Listen, you’re last ship went down like the Titanic, so I think it’s time we stop trusting you with the shipping.”
“Fine, don’t trust me with whatever you want,” I say, “but I’m obviously right here.”
“Here we go again,” he grins. “All of this is pure speculation, of course. We’re talking about what could be coming in the future, so what makes your prediction better than mine?”
“Because yours is stupid! Who would put Skye and Fitz together? It’s ridiculous!”
“Why do you keep trying to knock my suggestions?” he asks. “You really have to convince me that you’re right, don’t you?”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything. But I know that I’m right.”
“Can’t handle an opposing opinion, can you?”
I know that he’s joking, but I go pale when I realize how much like my mom I just sounded. This was only a playful argument I still had to knock his opinions like that. I feel a little sick right now, even though I haven’t had much to eat.
The conversation lulls and we watch a couple of commercials, casually commenting on the products, the shows, and the upcoming Michael Buble concert.
I hope my face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. I’m so embarrassed with myself. But I’d be even more embarrassed if Peter knew what it was that upset me.
“I didn’t know that Ward or Garrett were traitors,” I say, “but I always had a bad feeling about Sitwell.”
“Garrett always looked shifty to me. I never paid much attention to Sitwell. I feel like he was barely in a few episodes and then he just disappeared.”
I grin, thinking about the fate that Sitwell meets with. It was a proper end to his story, I think.
“When I was watching the first episode with Garrett and Triplett, I turned to Riley and said, ‘If ever there were a rat on that bus, it’s that guy.’”
“Rat on a Bus?” I laugh. “Is that the sequel to Snakes on a Plane?”
“Maybe,” he says. “But this time around, Fury is nowhere to be seen.”
“You mean Samuel L. Jackson,” I correct. “Nick Fury wasn't’ in Snakes on a Plane.”
“You have to think of it in crossover terms,” he says. “If he’s played by the same guy, there’s a pretty good chance that he’ll turn out to be the same guy. He’s just Fury undercover.”
“Yeah, sure.” I collect our cups and follow him into the kitchen where he loads his dishwasher.
He’s got a really nice apartment. I just hope that I can have a place like this when I move out. Probably not, since Mom will wither decorate or cut me off from my trust fund.
The kitchen of his apartment is about as big as the kitchen of my house. He has a nice, spacious living room area, too. I haven’t seen the rest of his place yet.
“It’s like how like how Transformers’ Shia Lebough is in everything. He’s clearly some kind of time traveling alien robot who just pretends to be someone different each time.
“Really? Then what does that make Nicolas Cage? He’s been probably everything.”
“He’s just a bad actor.”
“Hey! I happen to be a fan. He’s taken on all kinds of roles and done really well.”
“I don’t thing he has at all,” Peter smiles. “Seriously, the only good move he ever made was talking Jonny Depp into an audition.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say. I think Nick Cage is a really good actor. I don’t understand why people say he can’t act.”
“Well, if he know how to act, he definitely doesn’t know how to pick a good movie.”
“I’ll tell you who can’t do either of those things. Bella. Kristen Stewart has fewer emotions than a board of wood.”
“She’s okay,” he says.
“Not really. I’ve seen her in three movies. I think I’ve seen her have emotion—any realistic, convincing emotion—once. It was some horror movie I watched back before the Twilight days.”
“I think she was showing emotion in Twilight.”
“Wait, you’ve seen it?”
“I’ve got younger sisters. Riley wanted to watch Twilight one night. I don’t do well arguing over movie choices with her. She always wins. So we watched Twilight. Anyway, I think that Kristen Stewart plays the character. I get the feeling that it’s less the actress not being able to emote and more the writer creating a dull, one-sided character.”
“Hmm, I think that’s the only logical argument for Twilight that I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s not really for Twilight,” he corrects. “It’s really now. I’m pretty much directing the blame to a specific source. I don’t think even talented actors can do much with poor writing. Have you seen Dark Shadows?”
“Oh my gosh,” I scoff.
“Exactly.”
“It was a Tiff Pick,” I explain, using the nickname I’ve given to movies that I only watch because of my sister. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever watched, I think. Quite possibly. I mean, Jonny Depp is great and all, but the movie sucked. That’s really the bottom line.”
“See?” he points at me with a spoon as he moves it from his sink. “That’s what I mean. How many failures has Depp produced?”
“Not many, I guess.”
“And that’s because he’s great at what he does. And yet, even he can’t make the terrible writing work. If you didn’t know any of the actors that were in the movie, would you think any of them had talent?”
“No. Not at all. I sat there for two hours counting down the minutes. There was nothing good about that movie. Except for the occasional joke that didn’t suck.”
“But you know that Depp has talent, so I don’t think that the cast can be blamed for what the writers failed to give.”
“Yeah, that’s a really good point,” I say.
He starts the dishwasher and washes his hands and we head back into the living room.
“Tonight’s was an intense episode, huh?” he asks.
“Well it would have to be after what happened in Winter Soldier.”
“No, no, don’t tell me.”
I stare at him in horror. “What do you mean don’t tell you? You haven’t seen Winter Soldier yet? And you’re watching the next episode of SHIELD? Are you crazy?”
“Well they didn’t really talk about Captain America or anything.”
“Pfftt! Huge spoilers, Peter! I can’t believe—How could you—ahhh?”
“What? What could have been spoiled? The Hydra thing?”
“I mean, would you watch Supernatural episodes out of order?”
“I don’t watch Supernatural,” he says.
“But would you have watched Iron Man 3 before Iron Man 1?”
“I didn’t watch Iron Man 3 at all, actually. It was that it just didn’t look that good. I heard that it’s pretty anticlimactic. The first movie bored me, and they were trying way too hard with the second, so I opted out of the third.”
“You can’t just opt out of movies!”
“Why not?”
“They’re all interconnected!”
“I think I’ll be find catching up. If anything I can always go online or ask friends what I missed that’s important.”
“Okay, fine. Would you have watched Dark World before watching Thor?”
“No, but that’s different.”
“Not really. At all. The biggest thing that ever could have happened to Marvel Universe just happened in SHIELD, and you haven’t see what came immediately before this. It’s ridiculous. It’s un-loyal. It’s confusing.”
He chuckles. “Well, I guess you’ve seen it, then.”
“Four times.”
“Four times? You went back to the theater four times?”
“Uh, yeah.” Shifting in my seat, I notice the city lights outside. When did it get so dark? That happened quickly. “I went on midnight when it opened, then I went with Tiff, then I went with a few of my friends, and then Tiffany and I went with Mom.”
“Your Mom’s into Marvel too?”
“Anyway, you have to see it. It’s amazing. I’d say up there with Avengers and Dark World.”
“Whoa. Wait a second,” he says. His green eyes glint and I wonder what I got myself into. “You can’t just say that they’re ‘up there’. I need to know what your standards are, since you’ve obviously seen Iron Man and like Nick Cage.”
“Excuse you! Iron Man movies may not have been the best of the bunch, but they were still pretty good.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs.
“They were, though.”
“And I guess you’re going to say that the Star Wars prequels were just as good as the original trilogy?”
“Actually, I prefer the sequels. I don’t know why critics pick at every little thing about them.”
“Oh please,” he complains the way I had when he brought of Fitzskye. “What is there possibly to like about the prequels?”
“I’m not a fan of Phantom Menace,” I say. “Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of any of the Star Wars movies. But I think two and three are my favorites.”
He rolls his eyes in disgust. “Don’t tell me it’s because of the romance between Natalie Portman and the guy who plays Anakin.”
“No, actually.” I point my finger at him in accusation. “Not every teenage girl is into the whole romance thing.”
“You’re not?”
“Okay, well I’m not not into romance, but it’s not the guiding factor in my movie decision making. I like the prequels because of the anguish and the internal struggle.”
“But Anakin was so whiny.”
“He wasn’t whiny,” I defend.
“Have you really seen the movies?”
“Well, he may have been a little whiny, a couple of times, but that’s because he was in pain. His mother died, he felt under-appreciated, he had a secret Sith lord whispering things in his ear. He was going through inner turmoil. He was constantly being pushed to the edge physically and, especially, emotionally. Besides, Luke was just as whiny, and he didn’t have a good excuse.”
“Luke? He was a brave soldier, a dedicated jedi—”
“Like his father had been. But he started out constantly complaining about everything from doing his chores to not being able to travel to other planets. He was just annoying.”
“My point was, going back to Iron Man, that I don’t think that it was worth the time watching the movie would have wasted.”
I tuck hair behind my ear and suppress a yawn. “The Iron Man movies aren’t exactly the best in the collection, but they’re still Marvel movies. That’s enough reason to see them. At least, it’s enough to get this nerd to see them.”
“It’s not enough for me,” he smiles. The movie can be by whomever and star whomever, but at the end of the day, I need to be spending my theater money on movies that I think are worth seeing.” And then there’s that smile again. He has a really nice smile.
“Okay, then,” I challenge, “which Marvel movies do you think are the best?”
“Okay,” he says. He looks over at the television and realizes that some show’s been playing in the background of our discussion. He grabs the remote and turns it off.
We shift our bodies, settling on the couch more comfortably so we can face each other better.
“Well, like you said, Avengers is definitely top tier.”
“Yeah? And where does Dark World rank?”
Now that he said tier I’m thinking of cake. Tiers are a cake thing, right? I could definitely go for lemon meringue pie right now. Mmm. I’m not sure if that’s technically cake, though.
“In a perfect world,” he says, “it would be right next to Avengers, but…”
“But? No but. It is right next to Avengers.”
He lets out a breath. “Oh, but it isn’t, I’m afraid.
“Alright, then. How is it not?”
“I mean, there were definitely funny scenes, but I think the Avengers had more. Really I think it’s the whole drama with the planets aligning and stuff. Worlds are about to die, the red alien stuff—”
“The Aether.”
“Whatever. I just think they were trying too hard.”
“You’re a hipster,” I accuse.
“Hey, don’t say that like it’s an insult. And, no, I’m not. I just think that when you try too hard on something, people can just tell. And even more, if you try that hard, it’s not going to come out as good. It’s like a bunch of writers were sitting in a room saying, ‘Okay, we have to write the best movie ever,’ but they were so focused with their standards that they didn’t even make it good. They just let the first person with a decent idea write the movie.
“You realize that Marvel isn’t just in movies right? They started as comic books.”
“Okay, I can’t argue on two fronts here,” he tells me. “Do you want to talk comics or movies?”
“Okay, movies.”
“Well I think that they could have done a lot better with Dark World.”
“How? What could they have improved?”
“Well, besides the entire premise of planets aligning, which I thought was dumb, what about the fact that they just leave Loki there?”
“Well, they thought he was dead.”
“No, that’s not good enough. If a master of illusion who would be better off not going back to prison dies in front of you, don’t you think that you should at least make sure that he’s dead? Besides that, if your brother died right in front of you, wouldn’t you take his body back so you can give him a proper funeral? It’s not like they’re voyagers in the middle of nowhere and they don’t have the resources.”
“Well, they were both breaking the law. And Loki had attempted to take over our planet.”
“So? If Thor really cared, he’d at least bring Loki back and request that they give him a funeral like they gave his mother.”
“I mean, I guess,” I say.
“Though I think that Jane is the best of the main character’s love interests.”
“What do you have against love interests?” I ask.
“No, nothing. I mean, Jane is a really good character, I think. But for some reason, the love interests in these movies never seem as interesting as other characters. Especially when they’re woman. I don’t know who writes this stuff, but why can’t the female love interests be just as exciting as the movies’ male leads?”
“They can be,” I defend. “There are plenty of movies with strong female love interests.”
“Name one.”
Great, now my mind goes blank. “I don’t know but there are.”
“There are also lots of movies with boring love interests. Like Batman’s girlfriend.”
“Which one?”
“Rache—oh, I get it. Very funny. My point is, nobody cares about her.”
“I don’t know about that,” I counter.
“Come on. She’s dead. I mean, that’s why she exists. She was created so that she could die and make Batman/Bruce miserable. And then there’s Pepper, who does nothing but just help Tony out occasionally.”
“I think she does more than just the odd errand,” I tell him.
“Maybe, but it’s all behind the scenes and never has direct effect on the plot itself.”
“Well if you’d seen the third movie, you’d know that that’s not true. Besides, they’re such a cute couple.”
“She’s so easily replaced that they could have paired Tony with literally any other straight female character and you’d say the same thing.”
“Well, not a villain.”
“Really? You can’t see bad boy Tony with a villain love interest?”
Dang. He’s right. And now I’m considering dabbling in fanfiction just long enough to write a Tony/villain pairing.
“Still, there are woman who make a real difference in the world. Like Jane and Darcy, who literally saved the planet.
“Which is why Jane’s one of the few that I like,” he says.
I face forward again so I can stretch my legs and keep them from going numb. “Then what’s the problem?”
“With Jane? There isn’t one. I just would like to see characters like her be the rule and not the exception.”
“Alright, so you like Avengers better than Dark World. I’d put them side by side, but you’re forgiven,” I joke. “Which of the other movies did you like?”
I look at the clock and realize that it’s getting pretty late.
“Well, I haven’t see Winter Soldier yet, but Captain America was really good. I’m surprised, actually. I thought it was going to be more of a period drama, which would have disappointed me, because I’m a big Captain America fan. I’m glad that it dwelt mostly on the origin story, because I’m not really a fan of those historical war movies. Regular war movies I’ll watch, but the old stuff I usually find boring.”
I smile. Tiffany’s big into the historical stuff. She’d been so excited to see the movie, knowing it was set in World War II.
“Still, they did a really good job with it. It doesn’t feel like an old-fashioned movie. In some ways it still carries that ambiance, but overall it feels more like a superhero movie than a World War movie.
I agree. “It really isn’t like you’d expect an ‘older movie’ to be, because it was made recently. What about the first Thor movie?”
“Oh, I loved that one too. I think I’d have to say Captain America, then Thor right under it.”
“Why does Thor always come second?”
“I don’t have an issue with it, I just like Captain America better.”
“You just like Captain America better?”
“Yeah. In Thor, an arrogant a-hole learns to be a decent guy, therefore earning the powers that he had in the first place. Captain America is the story of how a worthy man became a powerful hero. He deserved what he had.”
“Do you think Steve could lift Mjolnir?”
“Of course. Do you?”
I laugh. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure Cap is worthy and all, but how worthy?”
“Worthier than Thor. Though, based on their appearance, I think that in a strict physical battle, Thor might have Captain America outmatched. Of course, assuming that neither has his classic weapon.”
“You might be right,” I say. I’m actually still trying to decide if he’s right. He’s made quite the accusation there. “But with weapons, Thor’s clearly no match for Cap. First off, we see that the shield can take Mjolnir easily. So there goes one strike against Thor. Second,” I continue, “if Captain America can lift the hammer—which we don’t know for sure, but if he could lift the hammer—then Thor doesn’t have a weapon. Mjolnir would be useless to him and useful to Cap, so that’s two reasons why he’d fail.”
Peter nods. “That’s the thing, really, because Mjolnir isn’t about who’s strong enough to lift it. Its weight has been calculated as only being about forty pounds. That’s heavy for a hammer, but not for the amount of destruction it could do. The whole point is whether you’re worthy to lift it. And Captain America definitely is.”
“You know, I tell him, when we first met, you didn’t strike me as the type to be a Marvel nerd.”
“Yeah? What did I strike you as?”
“I don’t know. A drill sergeant in the cavalry.”
He laughs at my accusation. “It’s a common misconception.”
“Oh? So I’m not the only one. Maybe we’re all right, then?”
“Please. There are no common misconceptions about you? Something that a lot of people think at first impression but only find out isn’t true once they get to know you?”
“Well…”
“Yeah?”
I run my fingers through my short hair. “A lot of people have made the assumption that I’m not that smart.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I shrug. “I mean, I’ve always been good in school and I even qualify for merit-based scholarships going into college. But when people first meet me, they tend to either think I’m a preppy rich brat or I’m an athlete who doesn’t care about my education.”
“That’s not what I got from you at all. I mean, I didn’t necessarily like you when we first met, but I didn’t think you were dumb at all.”
“What did you think?” I ask, fighting a bit of a blush.
“Well, not that you aren’t, um, attractive—You struck me as very confident and headstrong. I knew that you were stubborn and determined, though I didn’t realize quite how much. I knew you were someone who had a lot of passion for your education, and I knew that you were willing to do whatever it took to get yourself into your college.”
Even though he’s called me stubborn, his answer pleases me.
“What do you think about you surprises people the most when they learn it?” he asks.
That makes me think. I don’t know.
What about me is surprising? I think of myself as a little too predictable.
“I’ll tell you what surprised me,” he volunteers when I can’t come up with anything on my own.
“What?”
“Your dedication. To be honest, I thought that I’d make you quit within the first couple of weeks. But you were strong and persistent.”
“I knew you were trying to wear me down.” That should bother me, but I’m way past it at this point.
“It was harder than I thought it would be. And that’s when you earned my respect. When I saw how strong of a young woman you really are.”
“So what’s your call, then?” I ask with a yawn.
“About you?”
“Cap versus Thor.”
“Captain America wins,” he says simply. “And I’m anticipating that Captain America: The Winter Soldier will be as go as, or maybe better than, The Avengers.”
“Not better than,” I say indignantly. “I mean, I love Cap anyway and all, but—”
“Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
I follow him to the kitchen again and watch while he puts some on.
“Steve Rogers is so brave,” he says admiringly. “He was always willing to stand up for what he believed in, even before he was strong enough to win a fight. I mean, I just find that really inspiring. There’s a lot that I’d want to do if I weren’t afraid.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, never mind. I interrupted you. What were you going to say?”
“Um, what was I saying?”
I look back at his fridge and smile at the red husky in the pictures. Rufus is such a pretty dog, especially with those popping blue eyes.
“Winter Soldier isn’t better than Avengers.”
“Oh. I mean, it’s a great movie,” I continue, “but Avengers was just…everything I expected from Marvel.”
“After seeing Assembling a Universe,” he says, “I expect great things from most Marvel movies. I always did, but now there’s this extra layer of appreciation. Avengers was probably made as good as it was by the large cast of superhero leads.”
“Yeah, that’s true. Though they do crossover the characters a lot. I like that.”
“They talked about that a lot in Assembling a Universe. The old Marvel movies like Spiderman, X-men, and The Fantastic Four were licensed to other movie companies before the creation of Marvel Studios. Once Marvel Studios was founded, they knew that everything would be connected the way it is in the comics. So they started making the separate movies knowing that they’d all come together. It’s actually really cool. And I like the way even the television show ties into the movies. Who’s in The Winter Soldier? Other than Captain America and the Winter Soldier, of course.”
“Black Widow. Obviously Fury. And also the first MCU appearance of Falcon.”
“Nice,” he says. “I heard they were bringing him in. I don’t know a lot about him, but I am looking forward to seeing him.”
“It was a really good movie,” I say. “I can’t wait until the next Avengers.”
“Age of Ultron, right?”
I nod. “I mean, any Marvel movie is going to be mega awesome for me. I’m just a fangirl. And a huge Marvel nerd.”
“I’m a little more critical, I guess,” he grins. “But I do love the movies. I guess you’re not into the DC scene?”
“You are?”
Wow, I sound incredibly disappointed. That’s not how I meant for those words to come out.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “You’re looking at a guy who dressed up as the Joker for history class.”
“What? You dressed…”
“Yep. I had a really strange teacher. I mean, he was fantastic, but a bit eccentric. Dr. Grey. We all just called him Doc. He let us do cool things like listen to the Imperial March during exams, and sometimes he’d have these special costume classes. And we’d all dress up to some theme. This one time he was Batman and we all dressed as Batman villains. It was pretty epic.”
“That doesn’t sound regulation.”
“It probably wasn’t. But I bet all the other classes were jealous of how cool our teacher was.”
“You would be the Joker,” I grin. “You’ve got the hair down. You just have to change the color.”
“Hair chalk. It took a lot of chalk to turn this fiery mess into green, but it was worth it. You’re not much of a DC fan, I gather?”
I shake my head slightly. “Don’t get me wrong. DC definitely has a lot to offer, but it doesn’t translate the same way onscreen. Why so simplistic? The Dark Knight was an awesome movie and by fat the best they’ve ever made. I might let it rank among Marvel movies. But it’s an entire movie carried by the villain. And I don’t mean Dent, because he’s way too easy to lose interest in. I’m just not used to superheroes being less exciting than their enemies.”
“Hey, Batman’s pretty cool.”
“Batman’s definitely cool Like, if he were a real person, I’d totally want to meet him and get an autograph or something.”
“How do you take it?” Peter asks, pouring two mugs of coffee.
“Do you buy coffee creamer?”
“Only because I anticipate guest wanting it. I’ve got French vanilla and a triple chocolate.”
“Chocolate please.”
He gives me my coffee and we walk back inside. “Cute mug,” I laugh, admiring the comicbook scenes on it.
“My friend went to Comic Con and brought this back for me.”
“I have one like this, but smaller and chipped.”
“Yeah, this is a recent purchase.” He lifts up his mug after taking a sip. “And I’ve got DC too.”
“I see you’ve geared us up for a Marvel vs DC debate. I have to warn you that nothing in the world can make me back down from Marvel. You couldn’t convince me in a million years’ time that DC’s got anything on Marvel. If we’re talking cinematic universes. If you wanna talk comics, then I guess DC’s okay. Not as good as Marvel, but okay.”
My cell phone rings and I look down at it. Mom’s picture is on the screen and I groan.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to take this.”
I place my drink on the end table and stand.
“If you need privacy, you can take it in the bedroom,” he offers. “Down the hall, second door on the left.”
I thank him and take his suggestion. When I’ve shut the door behind me, I answer the call.
“Where are you?” Mom demands. “It’s past midnight.”
“I’m at a friend’s house, Mom. It’s not like I’m about to be murdered by a crazed lunatic wandering the streets.” I know that she can see exactly where I am on her GPS and I’m frankly surprised that she didn’t call me sooner. Maybe she was timing it so that she could interrupt at a crucial moment of something.
I could be in the middle of an important conversation.
Well, I am in the middle of an important conversation, but what if I were on the phone with someone from Excelsior State?
“Hi, Delta, how are you? I’m from Excelsior—”
“Whoops, gotta go. My mother’s calling.”
“Who? What friend?” Mom asks.
I give a dramatic sigh. “I’m at Peter’s house. What difference does it make whose house I’m at? I could be at Kiara’s or Sarah Charlotte’s. But I’m at Peter’s. The point is, I’m not roaming the streets.”
“I want you to come home now.”
“Mom,” I say, trying to sound mature and rational. “I’m an adult. I don’t think that I should have a curfew. Besides, you know that I’m safe. So what’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal?” she barks.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want my eighteen-year-old kid running around doing who knows what in the early hours of the morning.”
Doing who know what?
“Mom, I’m just at a friend’s house.”
“What are you doing?”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now! What are you doing right now, Delta?”
“We were just having coffee.”
At least we were until your call interrupted. We were just about to have an epic debate of nerdiness. But excuse me for being too irresponsible to run at the first sign of comicbook talk.
“Who else is there?”
“Mom…”
I don’t know what she’s got going on in her mind, but I’ve got the point, and she’s dead wrong. Come on, I’m not even that type of girl. I’d rather of coffee and talk superheroes than get drunk and spend the night in someone else’s—
“Delta. Tell me who’s there right now or I’ll come over there and get you myself.”
Oh, that’ll be torture. Should I just lie to keep her as far away from here as possible? My coffee is inside getting cold and Peter is waiting for me to get off the phone.
I could lie. I could say that Riley’s here. But she’ll probably demand to speak to her. Or worse. What if she called Ellie up at midnight to confirm that her daughter’s over here? Well, I guess the only choice I have to avoid life-destroying embarrassment is to tell the truth.
But I can’t believe she distrusts me so much.
“I found her pills.”
“What?”
What are we talking about now? What pills? Whose pills?
“I found birth control pills in Tiffany’s room.”
Maybe that explains away the whole mystery. Now I can see why Mom would doubt me, I guess.
Except, it doesn’t solve anything. It brings up more questions than it solves.
Is Tiffany actually taking birth control? Why would she need to take birth control? She hasn’t mentioned anything to me.
Maybe Mom’s making this up to get me to come home. What was she even doing in Tiffany’s room? Either she was snooping around or she’s lying. I can’t determine at the moment which is more likely.
There’s just dead air for a minute or so.
I realize that I’ve been standing here in the dark and I turn on the light as soon as I locate the switch. I blink as my eyes switch modes and I take a look around his room. It’s pretty neat for a guys room, I think. I mean, my room is messier than this.
The silence is awkward. I know that I have to say something to her, but I can’t say any of what I’m thinking. If I value my life, that is. Everything that’s on my mind would dig my grave even deeper.
Especially if I tell her that I’m standing here in Peter’s bedroom.
I smile at the beanbag chair in the corner, which looks like a large blue elephant. Above his bed is a black canvas that has painted on it the words, “Every goal starts with a wish and a dream.”
“Come home now,” she tells me when I don’t have anything else to say to her.
I dread having to face such a hostile environment when I could walk back into the living room and continue the conversation that I was really enjoying.
But I know that I can’t disobey Mom. She isn’t bluffing when she says she’ll come over here and get me. And she’d probably drag Tiff along in her pajamas and everything.
Plus, Tiffany probably needs my help over there. Someone needs to have her back.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I sigh.
She hangs up before I do.
“I’m really sorry,” I say as I come back into the living room.” I know from looking in the mirror on his bedroom wall that my face is a little red right now. I don’t know if it’s anger at my mom or embarrassment at having to leave this way.
“You have to go home?” Peter, across the room from me, stands from the couch with his coffee mug in his hand.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. I had a really good night. It’s just that…there’s stuff at home. Sort of an emergency.”
“Sort of an emergency?”
“Well, it’s just a family issue. A social emergency, I guess. I just really need to go home.”
“Okay.” He puts his coffee down and takes my coat off of the coat rack by the front door. “Are you sure that everything’s alright?”
“Yeah. Trust me, it’s nothing that you want to get involved in. And if anyone does try to get you involved, you should run for the hills. Don’t look back.”
He chuckles.
I shake my head. At the world in general at this moment. Tonight was so awesome before that phone call. “It’s just a family matter,” I say, “that needs urgent tending to.”
“Well, okay. But we’re going to pick this up again, so just don’t forget where we were.”
“Not if you chain me in prison and beat me with sticks.”
“What?” he laughs.
“I apologize. It’s something that Tiffany used to say. I think my sense of humor becomes more like hers when I’m stressed or tired.”
“Which is it now?”
“A bit of both,” I admit, taking my jacket from him.
“Maybe she’s right pulling you out of here.”
“Why?”
“Who knows what might have happened if you’d have stayed.”
What? What does he mean by that?
“Out debate could have gotten way out of hand,” he jokes.
“Oh, yeah. It probably would have ended in a trip to the emergency room.” I’m blushing hard and apparently still channeling Tiffany in my jokes.
Peter puts a travel lid on the Marvel mug and offers it to me as I shrug into my jacket. “It’s kind of luke warm now. I could heat it up for you now if you want.”
“I can’t take your mug home with me.”
“It’s okay,” he laughs. “It’s not like you’ll run off to another country and disappear for good.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Not for good. I’d definitely come back to collect ransom on this thing.”
“You can return it to me when we pick up our debate,” he says.
I nod and yawn. I’m already in Dream Land. It’s horrible when I realize that I’m probably going to be up at dawn as I try to sort out this family issue. It doesn’t help matters that I’m meant to be at Avanella at eight.
As Peter reheats the coffee for me, I try to calculate how much sleep I can get if I skip things in the morning. I don’t really need breakfast, I guess. I can get by on a Red Bull. At this point, I wish that I could just get home, fall into bed, and rest forevermore.
He comes back inside and gives me the mug and walks me to the door even though it’s only like a foot or two away.
“How about next Tuesday?” he asks.
“Why? What’s on Tuesday?”
“SHIELD.”
“Right,” I say.
Do I sound like a total idiot to this college guy? That adds to his aura of sophistication, but I feel like it makes me seem dumber by comparison.
“It was nice to have a friend to watch with. I usually sit here alone and talk to the tv on commercials.”
I start to laugh, imagining this man talking to the television set the way I’d seen Timothy do.
“I think I’m better company than commercials,” I say.
“Oh, not better than,” he says in a mortified voice, mocking the tone I’d used.
“Shut up!”
He grins and I giggle.
We make good friends, he and I. I can’t believe we disliked each other so much so short a time ago.
“Thanks for coming tonight. It’s not often that I find someone who doesn’t want to murder me after I start talking comicbooks and superheroes.”
“I know. Tiff likes to talk about them, but she’s more interested in what the men look like. That’s great and all, but it doesn’t make as lively conversation.”
He’s opened the door and we’re standing halfway in this living room and halfway in the hall. “Well, I’ll see you next week.”
“Definitely,” I say.
“Good night, Delta. I hope that you deal with whatever’s going on at home.”
“I will, I say. “I’ll swoop in like the Captain America of my family and set wrongs right and stuff.”
“I hope nobody’s being tortured.”
I grimace. “So do I. I think Tiff’s got it pretty rough right now. But I guess it’ll pass, just like everything else.”
He insists on walking me out to my car, saying that it’s safer to have someone escort me, even though he lives in a really nice neighborhood that probably has no crime at all.
If only he’d heard my conversation before. Then I could refer him back to what I’d said about crazed lunatics not murdering me.
I get in the front seat of my car, strap my seatbelt, and turn the key in the ignition. Lowering the window, I lean out into the cool air to say goodnight again.
He waves me off as I pull away.
I really don’t want to face what’s waiting for me at home, but I feel so guilty already for taking this long getting to Tiffany.
Let me know what you think of this excerpt and the others, too!
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