The She-Hulk Diaries (38 page)

“That’s amazing, Jen! I knew you would work things out.”

I left a message for Holden that I’d be out of the loft by the end of the month.

I wished that South American soccer announcer could yell, “Goooooooooal!” for me, because I’ve completed another resolution. As I was writing this, I saw the goldenrod flyer about the bar band at Juliet & Snickers. I suddenly feel energized, and I still have time to score more culture and outside-comfort-zone points.

Arrived at Juliet & Snickers wearing new jeans, demi-boots that I can kick off if necessary, a tight black T, and a sixties cropped leather jacket. I’d used Dahlia’s four tips to achieve big hair, which actually require fourteen steps and three products, and applied extra mascara and dark liner so my eyes would look sexy behind my glasses.

A homemade poster announcing
FRACTIOUS FARADAY LIVE!
was in the window. The crowd filled the sidewalk, no one bothering to stand in line. I edged forward, inextricably drawn by the band, even though the sound was muddled on the street.

The bouncer waved at me, saying, “Squeeze yourself in, stretch.”

Once I was inside the jam-packed bar, the noise coalesced into music, which I recognized yet didn’t recognize. Because Ellis Tesla was at the front of the small stage looking as if he’d stepped right out of my fantasies and memories, with his thick brown hair mussed up, wearing a vintage Laika and the Cosmonauts T-shirt and beat-up jeans.

He said, “This is a new one. It’s about how we delude ourselves about the one that got away. It’s called ‘Incomplete Data,’ ” and then the lead guitarist let loose with a surf rock intro, and Ellis began to sing in that tequila-and-gravel voice that made all my girly parts thrum.

And when he sang the next line, the crowd roared as they recognized who he was.

It was at that moment that he stood at the edge of the stage, leaning out over the first row of the audience. He looked around and he saw me and jerked back as if he’d been struck. There was a second when we were caught in each other’s gaze. And then he sang directly to me, about me, and I felt a deep, overwhelming ache as my heart broke all over again, just as it had when I’d realized he was never going to call me.

There was a moment of silence, and then the crowd started clapping and hooting, and I turned and pushed my way out of the club, shoving people aside as I said, “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

I broke through the cluster crowding the door and I was out on the sidewalk. I rushed forward, trying to breathe, but it felt as if my throat had closed up and my lungs had collapsed. I blinked to stop the tears and told myself,
Don’t cry, don’t cry!
Because I never ever cried in public. I never ever showed my pain or loneliness, but now tears blinded me.

I swiped at them and bumped into someone, who said, “Watch it, ma’am!”

I began running. I ran until my muscles burned and a heel broke off on cracked pavement. I ran thinking of how Ellis had once gazed into my eyes and told me he loved me and how I’d told him, “I love you, Ellis Tesla, and I always will,” and then he’d kissed me all over and I’d tried to show him with my body how much I cared for him, how he was everything to me.

But he’d never answered my message.

I stood at the edge of the curb and slammed my good heel against it until it broke off, and then I turned toward home. My entire body prickled with Shulky inside, her soul raging and furious like a caged animal, but this time I wouldn’t let her out. This time I would endure my misery until I overcame it… and overcame misplaced, undeserved feelings for an Ellis Tesla who had only existed in my imagination.

Because the real Ellis only used me as fodder for his songs.

Because Ellis Tesla is as false as his name.

In bed with the blanket over my head. I am cried out, having gone through a box of tissues, and now at least able to breathe regularly again. It’s just a song. It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t care, don’t care, won’t care anymore for Ellis Tesla. There is only Ellis Quintal IV, and he’s a cold-blooded bastard.

I’d rather face down Dr. Doom, because VvD is always honest about his desire to exploit others.

On track to accomplish every goal. All it took was proper planning to dramatically improve the quality of my life.

I have successfully not fixated on Ellis. In fact, I go for extended periods of time without looking for Fractious Faraday videos, reading their fan page, or checking on my eBay bid for Fringe Theory’s LP.

I’m glad I saw him on the same day that I found out about my new living space because now I can move on both physically and metaphorically. I’m sure Rene will be impressed when I tell him. I wish I had time for a session because we’ve got so much to talk about.

I’ve moved enough to know that it always takes longer than you think, requires more cardboard boxes than you have, needs more trips than you
first calculated, and no matter how careful you are, you’ll lose and forget possessions. However, after the last calamity at the Mansion, I hadn’t acquired much besides my clothes and Shulky’s more extensive wardrobe. Ruth sent over a van to collect my boxes at 7:30 a.m.

At 8:00 a.m., I met Ruth on Fifth, a block away from the Mansion, with my last duffel bag of gear.

She was wearing pink pleated khakis and a sherbet-yellow polo and looking a little more nervous than usual as she led me to a plain steel door between two buildings.

“I thought I knew all the secret doors in the city,” I said.

“No one knows all of them—well, except Tony, but he’s a genius!” When Ruth opened the door, I saw a room with trash bins and other debris. She closed the door, flicked a switch, and the entire room began descending.

“You will love this place, Jen! It’s super special.”

“I’m glad to be able to move before my next case goes to court, because it takes up every second,” I said. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure, absolutely! Here we are!” She opened the door and we stepped onto a brick walkway that ran alongside two sets of rails.

Antique gas lanterns were fitted up with modern lights, so I could see the roughness of the stone-block walls. I knew about the ancient tunnels, which ran beneath the modern subway, but I hadn’t been in them before. I took a sniff. “The air smells fresh.”

“The ventilation is modern. It’s this way.”

I followed her, and the tunnel opened up to an old station platform where a compact, shiny single-car train was parked. Ruth explained that the train ran on perpetual energy and hovered just above the rails. “You can use the Solomobile in any tunnel because it’s synched into the system to prevent collisions. Once it’s running, the invisibility shield engages.”

I looked around and saw that the station platform was walled off with opaque glass that shimmered as a thin sheet of water fell down over it.

“Oh, I should have mentioned the waterfall wall!” Ruth said. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s lovely—but where’s the apartment?”

“Right behind it. The wall isn’t really glass. You could drive a tank through it, but it’s better if Shulky doesn’t try, okay?” She went to a post set into the platform and entered a code on its panel. Then she placed her hand against a bio reader on the wall. “You know what a security nut Hawkeye is. He’s very protective of this space.”

The waterfall parted, and a section of the wall slid open to reveal an open concept space that looked like the presidential suite of a fancy hotel.

Ruth told me the code and said, “Your handprint and Shulky’s will unlock the door. Oh, you’ll be so close to the Mansion! We can see each other all the time.”

I dropped the duffle bag on a fifteen-foot-long sofa. All the furniture was elegant but sturdy looking, and there weren’t any easy breakables, like glass knickknacks, or any easy ruinables, like white carpets. It was the sort of place where I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally trashing anything. “Ruth, you’re amazing. This place is terrific!”

“I know you’ll never want to leave,” she bubbled.

“It’s the most perfect apartment ever for me!” I said, as I sank into a leather armchair that was deep enough to be comfortable for my long legs.

Dahlia helped me give the GLKH loft a final going over, and she was excited about my new place, which she insisted on calling “your underground lair” in a deep voice. She was wearing bright pink contact lenses, and I kept staring at them and looking away because they made her look a little inhuman.

I told her, “I’ll have you over to my fab new bachelorette pad soon. I can take you down in a private elevator, and I’m going to cook an international gourmet dinner, which isn’t one of my resolutions, but I’m going to add cooking to my goals since I’m accomplishing so much already. I’m also going to learn how to sew so that I can upcycle clothes that Shulky rips. I’m trying to be more green. I mean, you know what I mean.”

“Please, poodle, don’t worry about becoming a Holly Homemaker for me. Experiment on another victim first. Where were you last night? Adam and I wanted to meet up with you.”

“Well, um.”

“Shut up! Did you do the sideways Viennese waltz with Dr. Stunning?”

I looked at her. “D, that’s the first time you’ve ever made sex sound less dirty than it is.”

She looked as confused as I felt. “That’s weird, isn’t it? Well, you’re not giving me any repressed urges to riff on. Or maybe I don’t have any repressed urges to riff on.”

“Maybe you’re not repressed because Adam has released your repression—and please don’t tell me anything explicit or graphic.”

“Oh, Jen, he’s the sweetest, smartest, most wonderful man I’ve ever met! I don’t even care if he self-cuts his hair,
that’s
how much I like him. Rodney loves him, too. He’s becoming part of Adam’s pack.”

“I’m so happy for you, D,” I said and ruffled her hair, which was fuchsia to match her freaky eyes. “But be careful. Humans who hang around superhumans often get caught in the crossfire or used as hostages in criminal enterprises.”

“I’ve been around you since frosh year and nothing bad has ever happened to me.”

“Not yet, and I hope it won’t. Just be careful, hon.”

Although I’d liked living in this executive loft, I’d held back from settling in because it wasn’t really mine. We went from room to room, opening every cupboard and drawer to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. I found an old piece of dry fruitcake on a high shelf in She-Hulk’s closet, with a man’s banana hammock thong. D and I both said, “Eww, gross!” and I threw them away and washed my hands with lots of soap and hot water.

D said, “How did Claude, your former potential future love of your life, take the news that you’re leaving?”

“He said I’m his nicest tenant and that he’ll miss me and my statuesque green girlfriend. And I thought I was being so sly. He said he won’t forget me.”

“Speaking of forgetting, you didn’t tell me where you went last night.”

“Erm, I was packing.”

She caught me in her mesmerizing pink gaze, and against my will, I told her about going to the bar and discovering Ellis and his new band. She emitted a lot of OMGs and shut-ups, and she wanted me to call him and demand to know what it all meant, and I told her it meant that he hated me and his songs were full of shit, and that I’d wasted years fantasizing about someone who was a jackass. A really, really, smoldering hot jackass.

Maybe I associate jackassedness with hotness, e.g., Tony, which is why I’m not burning with desire for Dr. Stunning—who’s a gentleman and a scholar.

I really need to see Rene and talk about this stuff.

Bruce called to congratulate me on my new place.