Read Nobody Likes Superheroes, Anyways! :: Vol 5 - A Pizza Reassurance [PAGE 2]

The closest pizza place was a few empty streets over, and it greeted her delightfully with warmth and the smell of garlic, melted butter, and apparently at least five completely different types of cheeses. The night grew late, meaning it was mostly empty inside the small restaurant, but a few people scattered through the booths and tables laughing and chuckling while shoveling mountains of delicious bread, meat, and grease down their throats.

Arin walked up to the man at the counter who watched the news on an old TV in the corner. This time, a blonde woman in a tight shirt talked in front of a terrible green screen with the “Mag.net INC, Channel 20 News” logo still in the corner.

“Despite the failure of previous attempts, notorious mind-control villain, The Green Neuron, managed to escape from an Urban City prison just hours ago. The Kaltronian alien is considered dangerous and the Ultimatum has urged everyone not to interact or engage. Anyone with clues to his whereabouts is encouraged to contact The Ultimatum immediately.”

“I sure hope villains like that don’t come here, now that we have our own superhero and all,” the pizza-man said to Arin as she peered into the display case at the dried out pizzas.

“Doubtful. I don’t think anyone cares about our amateur hero.”

“Eventually they have to get bored of attacking only the big cities.”

“I don’t know why anyone would live in a crazy place like Urban City.” Arin pointed to the only pizza that didn’t look like bugs had been crawling on it. “One slice of cheese, please.”

“All right. Here ya go,” the guy pulled a slice out, handing it to her. “And it’d still be better than here. What are any of us doing? I think it’d be interesting to have all those heroes in costumes flying around all the time. All those women in tiny dresses, and skintight leather. Don’t tell me you don’t want a man in a tight uniform coming to save you.”

“Can I at least get it heated up?” Arin asked, refusing to take the pizza from his grubby, un-gloved hands. “And I’m not really into dicks in fancy uniforms, or otherwise.”

He threw the slices onto a metal rack, shoving it in a mini-oven. “Yo, those heroes are righteous, not dicks.”

Arin held a strong glare. “That’s not the kind of ‘dicks’ I was referring to.”

The man stuttered for a bit before figuring out something to say. “I–uh–Well, Y--you don’t have to be bitter because you’re not a hero. Jealous much?”

“Yup. So jealous,” Arin put on her best valley-girl performance to sell the line. The guy didn’t say another word as he handed her the not-even-fully-warmed-up slice of plain cheese pizza and made her pay.

Arin was alone, which she preferred. It certainly didn’t stop her from enjoying every bite of her undercooked meal. The TV kept blaring stories of superheroes, and all the folks in the shop kept talking about the same thing. She heard the name Red Electron uttered at least a dozen times.

Thoughts of what it would be like to really be a hero kept running through her mind, even when she told herself to stop. She wasn’t a hero. She had done one, maybe two, good things for people. She was definitely not righteous; that dang moral compass of hers hadn’t pointed due north in years. It just was not a job for her.

Next to her, she could hear a girl chatting away about some topic that was ridiculously boring, but at least not about superheroes. It had something to do with what her friend did to another one of her friends on another friend’s birthday. It was a long and complex story, with many different characters and settings, a poor set-up, and incomplete arcs, yet Arin eavesdropped on the whole story to stop herself from thinking. There was nothing else to distract her besides the television, and she didn’t need any more information from that thing.

It had to have been approaching the end of the long-winded story when the girlfriend stopped and said, “Are you even listening to me, Michael?”

Arin shifted her eyes over to the couple and saw that this so-called-Michael guy was shuffling through his phone, texting, and probably looking at stupid pictures his friends sent him, instead of paying attention to the lovely girl in front of him. He didn’t answer the young woman. Obviously he hadn’t heard a single word she’d spoken.

Not. One. Word.

“You literally never put that thing down.” She pouted and leaned back in her chair.

“Huh? What?” Michael glanced up. “Sorry I wasn’t listening.” He went right back to his phone. The young woman’s mouth sunk into a frown as she picked at her slice of pizza silently.

With a lift of Arin’s finger, Michael cellphone shut off.

“What the heck? I had half a battery left!”

Michael pushed the power button on the side of the phone repeatedly. “It won’t turn back on!”

The young woman lit up with the joys of her good fortune, and grabbed the phone from his hand, placing it far from his reach. “Then I guess you will just have to talk to me then, won’t you?” Her glimmering smile brightened the night.

“I guess. What were you saying about Jessica, then?” From there the conversation continued, with the phone out of the equation. A few moments later, they were both laughing. Arin smiled and gave herself a mental pat on the back.

Two years had passed since she got her silly un-super power and she hadn’t really considered using it as a way that helped others. It felt good.

It felt really good.

Arin wasn’t prepared for how good it felt. And she could get paid to do this.

The couple's laughter rang through her ears and stuck in her mind. Maybe deep down inside, she could be a “super” hero.