So I dedicated myself to my mission, and by the time Monday morning rolled around, I had definitely figured some stuff out. First of all, I had gotten totally screwed on the “origin story” front. All superheroes have origin stories, like how Bruce Wayne’s parents get killed and he goes to Tibet or whatever, and Superman is an alien, and Spider-Man had that radioactive spider. Me? I kissed a janitor in the school bathroom. Also, from X-Men, I learned that the people who seem to know what the eff is going on usually come find you, take you to a secure location, and tell you . . . well, what the eff is going on. So the way I saw it, some organization had clearly sent Mr. Hall to the Grove to protect something or someone. And Dr. DuPont had clearly come to the Grove to take that thing/kill that someone. And then that shadowy organization had fixed the bathroom with . . . um . . . magic or something (okay, so I wasn’t clear on everything) so no one would know what happened.

Now, all I had to do was go to school and act normal and wait for them to find me.

Easy. Provided no one else tried to kill me, of course.

Usually, Ryan drove me to school, but when I called him Sunday night, I told him I was going to drive myself Monday.

“Okay,” he replied, a little hesitant. “Is . . . Harper, is everything okay? I mean, I’ve hardly heard from you this weekend; you said you weren’t feeling great . . .”

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “It’s just supposed to be really pretty tomorrow, and I haven’t driven my car in, like, forever.”

There was a pause, and I waited for Ryan to suggest I just pick him up instead. But then he sighed. “Right, I get that,” he said at last. “No problem.”

Still, when I hung up the phone, I couldn’t shake this feeling that there was a problem. I pulled out my day planner, and on my list of weekly activities, added, “Spend more time with Ryan.”

Seeing it written down made me feel better and I reminded myself that it wasn’t like this was forever. As soon as I understood what had happened Friday night, I could move past it and get back to my normal life. Easy.

Monday was gorgeous, one of those perfect fall days that are kind of rare in Alabama. I drove to school with my windows down, the cool autumn air blowing my hair around my face. Now that I knew I wasn’t crazy, I felt a lot better. Being a superhero, or Paladin, or whatever, seemed like a natural extension of the stuff I already did. I mean, didn’t I work my butt off to make the Grove a safe and fun place to be? Whatever was at the Grove that needed protecting, chances were I was already protecting it.