Chapter Three

Two days had passed. Clearly the Superhuman would stay away from me but not from my thoughts. How could I not think about him regardless that I had wanted him away? Shannon had asked about my forehead the following day. I laughed it off, recalling Ghost. Mostly about how I would beat his butt into tomorrow because of his attitude. A little bit of wishing that he would show up again out of the blue if only one more time. I couldn't guarantee that he would be welcomed back with open arms though a small voice in the far recesses of my brain wished to see him again. Perhaps that may have been the voice of my inner curiosity to find out who he was. How he lived.

The wistful desire was then trumped by the fact he had committed more than one robbery.

Alas, I was a pair of underwear short than normal.

"Hey! We should go see that movie tonight!" Shannon bounced out of nowhere, brown curls bounding with liveliness.

"I don't know, Shan-"

"You're not my first choice either," she stuck her tongue out at me, "but Gage ditched me for work. Something you don't have to do. So you're coming out tonight."

I could not come up with an excuse way to escape. Theaters weren't really my thing, but movies. . .I liked movies. More than liked - loved.

Shannon widened her eyes and drew her brows together, an attempt at a puppy dog face. The secret weapon. Little did she know that I had already made up my mind.

"Please?" She batted both sets of eyelashes multiple times. I snorted a laugh.

"Alright! We can go, it'll be fun."

_________________________________________________________________________________

Shannon and I walked out of the theater with stiff legs. Dumbfounded, we both looked at one another.

"It was okay," Shannon shrugged.

I side-eyed her before adding on, "Could have been better."

The movie didn't hold up to its four stars at all. A cheesy romantic movie where the couple falls in love, breaks up, then they both figure out they miss each other and reunite.

Maybe it was the fact that it was about a Superhero and the complications of dating one.

"It could be cool to know a Super," Shannon offered up.

She wouldn't think that if she met Ghost.

"I used to think that," I muttered sourly. She hadn't heard.

We both picked our way through the parking lot, opening my car's doors and dropping in our seats simultaneously. Shannon fidgeted with the radio in search of a decent tune when I turned the car on. The drive back to her house was devoid of conversation, making me realize that we weren't as close as we had once been.

By the time I pulled to a stop at Shannon's red brick two story house, it was ten o'clock at night. We spent half of the day together and most of that time was slathered in silence.

"Thanks for coming to see the movie and everything. I can't help but feel this whole senior year thing is doing nothing but pull us apart," Shannon said absently.

"I'm glad to have went with you and I couldn't agree more. We should definitely do this again." I said it with a smile, happy that I wasn't the only one who felt the drift. How easy it was to let life get in the way and lose connections with friends.

"Slumber party next weekend!" Shannon shrieked, hopping out of the car. Her excited face made me grin. Goodness, she was so crazy. But that's what I loved about Shannon.

"Night, Shan," I called as she waved and slammed the door.

Tiredness washed through my limbs. She was crazy and exhausting. It was like trying and failing to keep up with a toddler or a new puppy. As Shannon walked up to her house, I pulled away from the curb and took off down the road.

The drive home was quiet. My thoughts were the same. I was glad I spent the time with Shannon and we were able to clear things up a little. A load had been lifted from my list of worries. There was no need to stress about any means of too much space between the both of us. Friendship wasn't one of the things I fancied on giving up out of all the things to lose.

My eyelids started to drift downward a couple of times. The events of the day had finally worn me to a lull. Sleep was a difficult power to fight. As hard as you tried to battle it usually took over in the end.

A loud thump sounded outside. The car faltered to an abrupt halt. My head lurched forward from the sudden stop. Panic piled on my chest. The slow rate my heart was once beating spiked with the instant tumult of fear.

Had I just hit something?

Someone?

My stomach rolled at the thought of hitting a harmless pedestrian. Oh God, what if it was an old person? I thought of Harry Potter riding the Knight Bus when the old lady with the walker snailed by the road. I fumbled to unbuckle my seat belt, vaguely praying.

The wrath of Mom was the first thought that struck me - how upset she would be. If there was any damage done to the car then my pathetic means of a social life would be thrown in the dumpster.

I looked up to see a figure standing between my headlights, positioned with two hands resting on the hood. A sigh of relief passed through my lips; I hadn't killed anyone, and the car wasn't damaged.

A weird sense of déjà vu came about my conscience. I put the car in park and opened the door with fumbling hands. Ghost really needed to be set straight. With strength like that he would end up putting a dent in the car.

"Why do you keep doing that--"

I stopped after realizing it wasn't a dark bodysuit, but a white one instead. A white suit, as tall and broad as Ghost, but not nearly as ominous. No doubt a male from the obvious sight of pure masculinity.

That stranger had a completely white suit without any marks besides a golden 'V' carved near his right shoulder and a simple belt with something attached to a buckle. The suit was so startlingly white to the point that I was momentarily blinded. How I didn't notice it before was beyond my comprehension. The suit was stretchy and tight, showing each and every muscle movement beneath the white fabric as he stood tall. It looked to be the same material as Ghost's was but a different color. A feeling of safety and promising protection flowed across my conscience like a tranquil stream.

A cowl the same color white as the suit covered his entire head stopping just below his nose. All it revealed was straight lips on a stubble-free jaw and unblinking eyes. It was difficult to see any particular eye color in the dark of night.

"Keep doing what?" The masked man asked. His voice held a deep, benevolent clarity.

I was mesmerized. The timbre of his words put me in the smallest of stupors.

He cocked his head at me.

Say something, my head screamed.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, what?"

"I just happened to be looking down to notice the swerving headlights. You don't look drunk," he said with observing glances.

Looking down?

I couldn't help but snort out a laugh at the insinuation of intoxication. "No, I was just a little tired. You're not going to take my license away, are you?" I half joked, earning a low chuckle from him.

"No, that won't be necessary but I can't let you drive."

Masked man took a long stride forward, leaving only a few inches between us. My breathing may have stalled for a moment.

"How am I going to get home?"

"It would be better for a conscious driver to take the wheel from here on out."

Was he implying. . .?

His lips curled into a soft smile, as if reading my thoughts. An encouraging look replaced the smile, and that's when what he had said clicked.

He wanted to drive me home.

I was scared, of course. Terrified. I tried not to show it, playing it off as if he didn't make me nervous as hell with those unblinking, unidentified eyes.

"Okay, Mom told me specifically not to get in cars with strangers. Especially strangers wearing Halloween costumes."

White Mask nodded slowly, agreeably. "I admire your defensiveness against a stranger but you can trust me. I'm the good guy."

He said those last words slow, adding emphasis to them. It seemed he was implying something else, something that wasn't as easy to pick up on.

I understood.

After all, it isn't every day you see a grown man running around in a onesie.

"You're Vigilante, aren't you?" I blurted, immediately regretting the way I had said it. The tone was full of enthusiasm, but my face was scrunched up as if disgusted.

That made sense as to why he was 'looking down'; he was flying. Were there rules against disrespecting a Superhero's identity? Or, well, name? Either way I had sounded blunt and rude. First impressions said a lot about a person and mine wasn't looking too well.

White Mask nodded, sending a strange feeling of comfort back into the atmosphere. Easing my worried thoughts.

"Vigilante, local superhero at your service."

He held out a white gloved hand. I shook it firmly. In his strong grasp I felt weak. "You can believe me, one less crazy teenager on the road will be better for everyone."

I smiled, already taking a liking to him. Or was it the strange feeling that seemed to float over the air when he arrived?

Trust leaked its way into my thoughts. I found myself stepping around the car to the passenger side, rattling off directions to my house. Mom would probably be disappointed but he was a Superhero and that made up for everything.

The car ride was silent. I didn't know how to even speak to someone of his stature. A celebrity had walked into my life and decided to take my car for a spin. Ghost was not in the same league as the character controlling my vehicle at that moment.

"Excuse me Miss, is this the right house?" Vigilante gently shook my shoulder until both my eyes opened. I hadn't even realized that I fell asleep. I was more tired than I initially thought.

I turned to look out the window. Sure enough, it was the little white two-story at the end of the street. Hard to miss. Mom placed a flamingo in the front yard and kept it there year-round. Our official home title went from, 'The White House' to 'Mingo Corner' as the neighbors said. The Hendersons called it that, anyway. Dad had tried setting a gnome out front, saying it was "'Gnome' place like home", but it wasn't funny to the Henderson's next door. They were serious when it came to garden gnomes.

"Thank you very much for taking me home. I guess I could have been in an accident without you." I hopped out of the car and put both hands in the back pockets of my jeans. Suddenly I was Nervous Nancy because there was a boy at my house. He was more a man than a boy.

Vigilante nodded again. He slid out of the car and closed the door. There had been a behemoth in my Mini. He dangled my Batman lanyard that held every important key in my life.

"Don't forget these. You have a good taste in Superheroes."

I smiled tightly. "Thanks. See you around?"

Vigilante's silence was word enough, and he placed my keys on the roof of the car. I tried not to let it seem like my happiness plummeted to the curb. He truly looked like a lone star in the black of night, and my lone star was ready to leave forever. Goodness, I'd gotten attached to the Super in a considerably short amount of time. What the heck?

"I would hope not. But only because that would mean you're in trouble. Have a good night, Angel White." Vigilante turned to leave.

"Wait--How do you know my name?"

Vigilante turned, the amusement clear in his voice as he pointed out a small charm on the key chain. "On your lanyard there's a little Mickey Mouse chain with your name on it."

My face grew warm, and the dark was welcomed for once as I turned to look at the ground. The sense of trust and security left my head a second later. I looked up, squinting in the night. Vigilante had gone.

I grabbed my keys, deflated, and trudged up to the front door of my house. Upon opening the door, I wasn't surprised to see Dad in his usual spot on the recliner. He peeked over the top of the newspaper before saying, "I'm getting used to these late night arrivals and I'm not liking it one damn bit Angel."

"Sorry, Dad," I apologized, taking off my jacket. Routinely, I glanced at the headlines of the paper. The top story read, "Grayson's Gun Shop Break-In: No Suspects".

"It's alright kiddo. Just give a call." Dad resumed reading the paper as if no rules had been broken.

"Where's mom?"

"You're lucky tonight - she's working late," he replied with a chuckle. I smiled and took the carpeted steps two at a time up to my bedroom.

With a twist of the knob the door glided easily open. Darkness greeted me with open arms. I flicked the light switch on. As an orange glow cast over the shadows one specific outline stood out. The figure of a person against the window frame registered in my vision. My heart stuttered in astonishment.

Ghost had his arms crossed over his well-defined chest as both his biceps looked to be straining against the material of his suit. A black hood still obscured his face, only a freshly-shaven chiseled jawline visible, just as it had been for our last two encounters.

"What the heck are you doing here? I don't allow strangers in my room," I hissed, glancing out into the hallway before shutting the door. "Two Supers in one day is more than enough."

"What are you doing with him?" Ghost spat, ignoring my previous question completely and standing to his full height. It was quite staggering, enough so that I blinked a few times, shocked.

"Who?" I asked with a gulp, knowing exactly who he was.

"Don't play dumb. You know who I'm talking about."

Within one blink Ghost was directly in my personal bubble. His scent clouded all of my thoughts. I struggled to form an answer to the question. The gray skull on his suit seemed suddenly intriguing, every stitch visible. He saw right through me and threateningly snarled. I started.

"I can speak to whoever I want. You're not the boss around here." I pushed the hulking tower to the side, or at least attempted to, stepping over to my bed.

"You sound awfully full of yourself for someone who's wearing Batman underwear. In fact, it matches that lanyard too."

The smugness was evident in his voice. Blood rushed to my cheeks similar to the way that bubbles float to the surface of boiling water.

"You. . .can see beneath my clothes as well?" I squeaked out. Ghost chuckled.

"Just a gift."

"Gift? Gift!? You perv!" I shrieked, grabbing a pillow and throwing it his direction. The feathered sack only bounced off of his broad chest before falling to the floor, leaving no damage behind. I was hoping it may have been some sort of weakness but lo, it wasn't.

Ghost glanced at the pillow with a slight bend of his head. I couldn't tell if he was angry or amused. I wished I could see the look on his face at that moment. Wished I could see his face.

"Blondie, you thought a pillow might leave a scar? Maybe you are more dumb than I presumed."

I scowled at him, hoping beyond hope that the boogey man would come from my closet or out from under my bed and just take him away. Ghost seemed to enjoy harassing others that had a smaller stature than himself. As if he fed off the hatred of others. Or just reveled in the fact he could make someone fire-spitting mad.

The image of pounding a fist against his nose satisfied my anger as the vision whirled together from my subconscious. Impossible, though, because it would probably do more damage to myself than Ghost.

"You're right on the dot there, Angel."

Did I say that out loud?

"Didn't have to." Ghost tapped the side of his hooded head. My brow furrowed with lack of understanding.

Wait, can he. . .?

A knowing grin surfaced on his lips. "Yes, Angel."

"You can hear my thoughts too?"

"Maybe you're smarter than I give you credit for."

Fury raged through me, making my fingers curl into fists at my side. The urge to punch him came back stronger, then it completely disappeared, swallowed by realization. None of my thoughts would be mine anymore. How was I supposed to quietly bask in the strange sensations that played through me whenever he was around? The answer: I couldn't, unless I wanted an audience at my swoon-fest.

"It's a very useful gift. Especially around you since most of the time you say the opposite of what's really going on in there. Then again, you don't hold back your anger." Ghost stepped around me and dropped on the bed. "Now, back to business. I don't want you talking to Vigilante anymore." He sneered at the name while making air quotations with gloved fingers.

"That's none of your concern. And get off my bed!" I said sternly, arms crossed.

"He's a crock of shit!"

"He's more kind than you!"

"He's my enemy."

"And that matters to me why?"

"You can't fraternize with the enemy! Rule number one in the rule book."

"Rule book of what? 'Ghost's Guide To Livin' Life'?"

"Don't be stupid. A man like me doesn't have time to write a book."

"But apparently you have time to lay around like a lump on my bed."

"You're deflecting."

"Vigilante saved my life while you go around stealing my underwear!" I finalized, sucking in a long breath afterward.

The feel of his stare came up, settling the air into an uncomfortable atmosphere. Minutes passed with both of us in a heated match. I didn't have to see his eyes to know they were directed at me, but with frustration or examination, I didn't know.

Tension was thicker than fog as the competition continued. He must have been thinking intently about my previous words. The most confusing part was why he didn't want me with Vigilante even if we were never to cross paths again. How he knew I was even with the other Superhuman was strange but the only guess I had was that Ghost may have saw the two of us from my own bedroom window.

Just thinking about that made it seem awfully creepy.

"Saved your life, huh?" It was quiet, almost to the point that I had to strain my ears.

Maybe that part was a little dramatic, but he saved the car at least.

"What do you want, Ghost?" I turned around with a sigh. At least I knew what I wanted; to see what arrogant jerk was hiding under that hood.

He didn't answer at first almost as if he had fallen asleep. A sudden shift against the pillows said otherwise, but instead he chose to ignore the question.

Typical.

"Look I'm tired, and I want to go to bed. If you have anything to say just get on with it."

Waiting for him to speak was similar to waiting for snow to fall in the summertime. How silly I would have seemed to my father - he told me not to wait around for men. Ghost always had me pining, unfortunately. Most of the time it wasn't worthwhile. Merely playful banter. Whatever he usually had to say had to deal with the arrogance that clouded most of his personality. Did he even have a personality?

Ghost stood up and walked to the window. He paused and turned a little to look back at me. "Just checking in on my nerdy little damsel. Don't have to be so snobby."

'My'.

A pillow found its way to my hands, ready to be thrown. "Leave."

Ghost chuckled slightly. "Careful, if you destroy me with that pillow we won't be able to have these late-night chats."

"It's what I hope for."

Every ounce of my anger was directed at the egotistic villain. Of course, after spending only a few minutes with him at a time, how could anyone stand that attitude? He was vile. He was arrogant. He was intimidating. Was there anything good about him?

Good doesn't make a villain.

"Have fun with the little hero. If 'fun' is even possible for you." Ghost climbed out the window, immediately perking my curiosity bin.

"What are you doing? Just jumping?"

Ghost tipped his head back and for a moment it looked as though his hood may fall down to reveal his secret identity. When it didn't drop as I had hoped, disappointment laced through me.

"Aw, my little Angel does care. Don't worry, heights aren't as harmful as those nasty pillows. They leave a hell of a bruise, baby." His voice dripped with disdain and mockery, obviously still irked towards me.

How hard it was to repress the need to punch him. "Are you going to jump or should I push you?"

"And now she's back. It's like I have to drag the fun out of you," Ghost snickered to himself before regaining composure. "I would say good night but with me around it's a great one."

Enmity pushed my legs toward the window as it unleashed totally, absolutely spent with the Super, my muscles coiling and readying to shove. As the distance closed, Ghost seemed to understand and dropped down to the yard below.

Not a single noise rose up after the jump. A thump nor a snap of bone from the distance. The only indication of him even falling was that of the crickets; their song had been disrupted by a hulking Superhuman with a serious personality problem.

A soft chuckle drifted up from below. I leaned against the pane to look out over the yard. The only thing actually visible was the pink flamingo. For some reason I expected him to have a getaway car, like the Batmobile or the tricked out vehicle that The Green Hornet had. When the crickets resumed their song I pulled back from the window and shut it tight.

If only there had been a guard dog outside.