All the money Dhiraj had put into driving school came to good use as he maneuvered his way around the news vans parked in Ted's driveway. After fitting his compact in the space between the dying tree and where the pool used to be, he threw it into park and took in the surroundings. He counted 15 different stations covering Ted's house. Among them, there were three foreign language channels, a college station from 50 miles away and two national news carriers.
"I should have been the first person he called."
After hours of attempting to figure out where Ted was and why Page's was closed, his newsfeed went crazy with outlandish headlines like "Teenage Superhero Saves Day," "Robbery Thwarted by Local Teen" and "The Next Evolution in Heroism." There was backlash, too, as not everybody was ready to accept the truth. One cable news channel had an hour-long discussion about whether or not Ted was the devil. Two guests said he probably was, while the other remained neutral. Dhiraj wished he could have gotten out ahead of the story.
With a crowd gathered around Ted's front door, he snuck around back through the loose basement window. The Finleys never threw anything away, which made navigating their basement a challenge. One wrong step, and he might crush anything ranging from a plastic wrestling action figure from Ted's youth to a crystal serving dish from the Finleys' wedding 20 years ago. But he'd traveled the path enough times in the dark that he could probably do it blindfolded.
As Dhiraj opened the basement door into the first floor hallway, he nearly ran right into Mrs. Finley.
"Dhiraj! You're too sneaky sometimes."
Mrs. Finley was holding a baking pan with two-dozen cookies cooling on top. Dhiraj had no doubt she was going to pass them out to the intrepid reporters barricading her front door. He supposed one catches more flies with honey than with the phrase, "Get off my lawn."
"Mrs. Finley, you look absolutely radiant today."
While Dhiraj knew his way around a compliment, he meant this one. Ted's mother had put on quite a face for the cameras. He wondered how many interviews she'd given already.
"Oh, Dhiraj," she said. "Ted could learn a thing or two about your flirting. Did you hear about Natalie?"
"It's a damn shame."
"I was always worried she'd just beat him up one day. I suppose words hurt more than fists. Ted's in his room, by the way."
"Thanks Mrs. F. Mind if I…."
Mrs. Finley nodded and Dhiraj helped himself to one of the cookies. He tipped an imaginary cap to Ted's mom and did his usual prance up the stairs. He wondered why she hadn't mentioned Ted's superheroism, but he figured she hadn't had a chance to process this very new set of circumstances. Dhiraj knocked on Ted's door.
"I don't want any," a muffled voice said from inside the room.
"But sir, you don't even know what I'm selling."
"You're always selling something."
Dhiraj opened the door to see Ted lying face down on his pillow. Ted's room rivaled the basement for its lack of organization. Next to the door, there was a cabinet half-filled with books. The other half was stuffed with homework, tests and report cards dating back to kindergarten. Between Dhiraj and the bed were two piles of clothes, one presumably dirty and the other clean, though it was impossible to tell which was which at first glance. He stepped over the mounds to sit beside the new superhero.
"With the sound you were making, I thought you might be trying on a new superhero mask," Dhiraj said. "How about the Luchador Lothario?"
Ted groaned and rolled over. He had ice packs wrapped around his arms, but otherwise he seemed to be in one piece. Dhiraj cleared his throat and continued.
"You know, you could've given me some lead time on this. If I didn't already own TedFinley.com, this could've been a disaster."
"If whatever gave me this–" Ted said, as he waved his hand and knocked over a participation trophy sitting on a high shelf from across the room "–had given me some lead time, I would have gladly told you about it."
The display of power blew Dhiraj's mind. He tried to speak for a moment, but no sound came out.
Seeing is believing, he thought.
"You alright?" Ted asked.
Dhiraj stood up and began to pace.
"Tell me everything!" Dhiraj locked his hands together. "Do you have supersonic hearing? The ability to change into different forms of water? You have x-ray vision, right? Please tell me you have x-ray vision."
Ted rolled over and buried his face back into the pillow.
"If you don't tell me, I'll just make something up in your unauthorized biography I'm having commissioned," Dhiraj said. "Can you believe it, a ghostwriter without any upfront costs? We still keep foreign translation rights."
Ted came back up for air.
"You need to slow things down, Dhiraj. I’m having a little trouble processing the absolute insanity of my life right now."
"Talk to me."
Dhiraj listened as Ted related the entire tale, from the Natalie breakup and the blue energy pulse to the 911 calls and the ride home from Sandra. As he listened, Dhiraj made some mental notes of ways he could beef up the story for the ghostwriter. He wondered how much he should charge for the first book. He knew self-publishing was all the rage – would that be the best route?
"So this bad guy–"
"Nigel," Ted said.
"Nigel. He could stop your powers cold?"
Ted nodded.
"You've been a hero for five seconds and you already have a nemesis?"
"Just my luck, right?"
"This is going to be great for the screenplay. Superhero movies make more money when they have a nemesis."
Ted sat up and put his hands over his face. He took a deep breath.
"She broke up with me, Dhiraj."
Dhiraj stopped pacing and sat next to his friend. It was just like Ted to be on the cusp of being the most important person on Earth and spend his time thinking about heartbreak. He gave Ted a reassuring slap on the back.
"I'm sorry, Ted."
"Yeah. And now all of this. I'm a little overwhelmed."
Dhiraj looked out the window. Even more news vans had pulled up, with each of them waiting to get a quote from the man of the hour. He could imagine the networks pulling every bit of information they could to stretch out the 24-hour coverage. He was sure they'd have Ted's babysitter or little league coach giving an interview in no time.
"You're the right man for the job, Ted."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's think of it this way," Dhiraj said. "If some jerk got superpowers, he would let them go to his head. You're the nicest person I know. To a fault. You have a 90% chance of not letting the power go to your head."
Ted laughed. He pulled the pillow into his lap, letting his arms and icepacks rest on it.
"Thanks, buddy."
"Don't mention it."
Dhiraj stood up and drew the blinds.
"You know, the story of your diner heroics wasn't the only news in town today," he said.
"Oh yeah?"
Dhiraj couldn't wait for his friend's reaction on this one.
"There's a rumor flying around that someone's former BFF and massive crush was seen at a pizza joint getting some lunch."
Ted looked confused at first, but the realization eventually hit. His eyes grew wide.