Ep. 13 | The Lie About the Windmill (ft. Froot Loops)

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"I just don't understand."

Vidya picked up another outfit from the table, inspecting it at arm's length. "Understand what?" she asked.

Mom was sitting on the bed, gnawing on the end of a pickle. It was the cinnamon-dill kind, the flavor that made Vidya gag, so she wrinkled her nose and went into the bathroom to change.

"Why he's resigning now," Mom continued, her voice muffled by the door between them. "Celestro is a relatively young company—only sixteen years old, right?"

"I think so."

"And Goodman is only sixty-five. I'm surprised a man with that much power is giving it up so quickly."

Vidya shoved her arms into the sleeves of the white-button down and closed it from bottom to top, thinking. The president of Celestro's resignation didn't really shock her, only because she'd never had an opinion of him in the first place.

She shrugged to herself in the mirror. "I guess sixteen years of running a superhero company tires a guy out."

Mom laughed. "That's fair."

Vidya pulled on the blazer, straightened her pants, and stepped back into her room, twirling around. "What do you think?"

Thankfully, Mom had finished the pickle. She leaned forward and squinted, eyeing every detail. "It's a little small."

Vidya pulled at the fabric, trying to stretch it, but Mom was right. This was her homecoming outfit from sophomore year; she hadn't thought she'd outgrown it much, but she'd been wrong. She took the blazer off with an anxious sigh. She'd known for a while that she had to attend the resignation celebration, but she'd put off finding a fancy outfit to the very last moment, right before the party.

And what did she have that was fancy? Well, aside from the too-small pantsuit set, there was the purple dress from freshmen homecoming and the simple black dress from junior homecoming. She'd already discovered a rip in the side of the purple dress, so she picked up the black one and took it into the bathroom.

"How long will you be there?" Mom asked.

"Until eleven, I think?" It really depended on how long Fox wanted her there, which shouldn't be too long.

Vidya zipped up the dress and rolled the lint roller over it. It was mostly clean—as it should be, since she'd only worn it once, and it fit just fine.

She strode out of the bathroom confidently. Mom leaned forward and squinted again, finally smiling and saying, "Perfect."

"That's great!" Vidya said enthusiastically, rummaging through her bed for her mask. "Because I was supposed to be there five minutes ago!"

_____________________

Lady Marvel smoothed down her wrap dress for the tenth time. The resignation party was a simple celebration, not a superhero event, so the heroes ditched their uniforms in favor of formalwear. Lady Marvel spent more time in her supersuit than in anything else—sometimes for missions, but mostly for interviews and relations meetings and official reports. She was happy to be wearing a dress for a change but couldn't stop adjusting it.

Flamethrower smirked. "Stop doing that."

Lady Marvel forced her hands to rest at her sides. If Flamethrower could wear a gorgeous black pantsuit that was too long in the legs without tripping over her impossibly high heels, then she could stop fidgeting with her dress.

They stood together near the entrance, which had officially closed an hour ago but still flapped open every once in a while to let in latecomers. The guests were a mix of Celestro's personnel, its heroes, and a few public figures and sponsors. Only some press had been invited, and since they weren't wearing their badges, it was difficult to tell who was who unless you already knew them. And Lady Marvel did: she knew every single one by face, name, and publication.

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