I make it down to the city in a record time of ten minutes, which is good because it gives me more time to wander around and find out where I need to go. It's been ages since I've been to Anai, and everything looks so different. New stores replace the old restaurant's mom and I used to go to together; and the old business district had been replaced with a giant stadium for concerts. A digital screen shows the latest K-pop group that's going to be performing there, but I don't have time to stop and wonder who it is or if I know them, so I keep walking.
"Where are you," I mumble, as I pass by the same Indian food restaurant I walked by only five minutes ago.
"Where are you!"
People bump into me from all sides as I stumble down the road, and I nearly get run over by a hover boarder who isn't looking where he's going. I wish Kalen were here, people seem to be repelled by him, giving him space for miles. I nearly come to a full stop when I realize just how much I miss him. It's weird not having him here with me, or any of the others for that matter. But they are all out doing their part, trying to complete the mission, the least I can do is do the same.
After cursing to all the gods above, and then apologizing and begging for their help, I finally stumble upon a small book store wedged in between two office buildings. The small shop seems very out of place with all the glass walls and high-tech buildings, looking quaint with its little wooden roof and brick exterior. It's nice, gives a touch of color to the otherwise monochrome environment. I step inside, hearing a bell jingle above the door frame. An elderly lady looks up from the register but goes back to her book once she sees me wander deeper into the shelves of books. I glance at the clock.
3:40
I made it before Diana! And here I was expecting to have missed her.
I spot a small yellow couch near the children's section, so I decide to grab a book and get comfortable while I wait. I'm not even paying attention to what I pick up, which is why a surprised smile graces my face when I realize which one I chose. It's not even a proper book, more like a compilation of old comics, but as I flip through it, old memories resurface, making a feeling of nostalgia settle in my chest.
"The Incredible Hulk" "The Amazing Spider-Man" "Iron Man"
These were all of my dad's favorite comic books. He used to read them to me as goodnight stories, and I remember how Mom would get all mad at him, telling him that they weren't "real" books.
"Read her something educational," she would scold him, leaning in my doorway, face cast in shadows as she watched my dad lay in bed with me, tucked under the blanket with a new comic book in hand.
"That is not appropriate for a child her age."
"Of course it is!" He would exclaim, smiling at her annoyance. "Everyone needs their superheroes!"
He would then go on and on about how it was educational because it talked about mutations, or how it would teach me to use my Gift for good, and Mom would just shake her head, pretending to be upset even when we all knew she was hiding a smile under her serious facade.
"When I have a Gift, will I be like them?" my younger self would ask him, pointing at the superheroes on the colorful page. He would smile and pat my head, hugging me a bit tighter.
"You will be better than them," He would say with a twinkle in his eye.
And then we would read another comic because I would beg for more, and in the end we would stay up reading a third one because Dad forgot the ending to it and needed to remember "for old times sake."
Then he'd kiss me on the cheek and tuck me in.
"Good night Brutal Bri," he would say, muttering the superheroes name I had given myself when we first started reading comic books together.
"Good night Danger Dad," I'd mumble back, already letting sleep envelop me in its warm embrace.
I trace the familiar drawings with a gentle hand, shaking my head when my vision starts to blur.
"Hey, are you ok?"
The voice startles me so badly that I drop the comics on the floor, right by the stranger's feet.
"Oh! I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you," they say, bending down to pick up the volume for me, but I'm too busy staring to care about the book.
"I can't believe it," I mutter, internally high fiving myself.
"There you go," they say, holding out the comic that I just dropped, but I barely register the movement.
"Diana Khan?"
Here I was, completely forgetting about my mission, and she just walks right into me. It looks like fate did want me to find this girl.
She pales at my comment, bringing the scarf she's wearing higher up over her mouth.
"What?" She mumbles "I don't know who you are talking about."
She spins around, making a beeline for the door, but I stop her, quickly grabbing her wrist before she can make a run for it.
"Don't worry!" I exclaim. She struggles a bit, but in the end she just sighs and turns around to face me again.
Now that I can get a better look at her I realize she's wearing what looks like a disguise, or what's supposed to be a disguise. Large pink fluffy scarf hiding most of her face, white bucket hat sitting on her head to hide her eyes, and a plain pair of ripped jeans and an old baggy T-shirt, in the same shade of pink as her scarf.
The get-up is kind of strange, but if she didn't want people to know who she was it was probably doing the trick. I wouldn't have recognized her if I hadn't known to look for her. Diana Khan usually dresses in only the best clothing, wearing nothing but designer dresses and outfits that make even movie stars jealous.
"I'm not a crazy fan or anything," I assure her, not wanting to spook her any more than I already have. "I was just surprised it was you that's all," I finish, letting go of her wrist.
To my relief she doesn't run away, but she doesn't look completely relaxed either. She keeps glancing at the door, whether it's to make sure a camera crew won't come bounding in or if it's because she wants to make a quick escape, I'm not so sure.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to keep her from leaving.
I still haven't figured out how I'm going to get close to her, but I'm guessing friendly conversation might be a good way to start.
"Aren't your bodyguards supposed to be with you at all times?"
She scoffs, sitting down on the chair in front of me. She puts the bag she had slung over her shoulder on the floor, slouching in the most un-ladylike posture I've ever seen from her. I'm starting to think the Diana that we are shown on the news isn't the same girl I'm looking at right now. And I think I like this version better.
"Well I guess these are useless now," She says, taking off the hat and hanging the scarf over the side of the chair. She looks as good as ever, big doe eyes staring at me from under her long lashes. If I were a guy, I would have fallen in love with her by now. No wonder she was such a popular topic between the boys in my old school.
She leans back in her chair and sighs, watching me wearily. I smile, to try and show her that I'm not going to expose her to the media or start screaming like a lunatic.
"How did you know it was me?" She pouts, crossing her arms in front of her. I laugh, and copying her I sit on the sofa I had been occupying before she came into the little book store.
"Well your face for one, it's kind of hard to miss."
She blushes, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"But your disguise was perfect! I almost didn't know it was you under all that pink."
That gets a smile out of her, and she sits up a bit straighter.
"Well, it worked for a little while anyway," she sighs, looking at her scarf longingly "though I wish it would have lasted longer."
I put down the comic and wave a hand in front of myself.
"Don't worry, I'm not exposing you, it can still work for, umm, whatever it is you're doing here."
She smiles again, blue eyes sparkling with interest.
"I decided I needed a little me time," She says, answering my unspoken question.
I nod.
Understandable. A girl in her position and at such a young age, it's only natural that she would need a bit of space from time to time. A break from the spotlight.
"So how did you manage to escape your bodyguards?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.
I knew for a fact that the president never let Diana out if his sight without her bodyguard's present. There had been so many attempts on her life and kidnappings already that I was surprised he didn't just lock her in his house. Many of them hadn't been successful, her bodyguards were the best in the world after all, but one could never be too careful.
She shrugs, like escaping ten professionally trained military officers was no big deal.
"I managed to lose them in a crowd down on 45th, they are probably still looking for me as we speak."
I chuckle, shaking my head at how smug she looks.
"So, Spiderman huh?" She says, gesturing towards my forgotten comic book.
"You got a problem with the classics?" I ask.
She shakes her head.
"Not at all, but I personally prefer Iron Man or the Black Widow."
I smile. Diana Khan knows about superheroes? Well that's not something you don't hear every day. Maybe getting close to her won't be so hard after all.
"Well then you will be happy to hear that Iron Man is my second favorite superhero."
She laughs, tilting her head back. She's wearing a silver locket around her neck, the kind my mother said her mother wore when she was a child, and something about her just calls out to me.
I have a feeling the both of us are going to get along just fine.