Chapter 1: The Idea “Figures I would find you here,” said a familiar, if highly exasperated voice. Quickly clicking the last few keys before saving the piece on her notebook, Sam looked up into the annoyed face of her best…well only friend. Blushing and pushing her glasses back up on her nose, the nondescript brunette began to apologize. “Sorry, Sara. I just had the inspiration and I had to rush off to jot down a few notes. I’m ready now. Really. So, where do you need me?” The annoyed blonde only seemed to glower at Sam more. “I needed you over there two hours ago. We’re finished now. While you were typing away, some of us were working,” Sara groused. “T-two hours?” Sam stuttered in shock. “It can’t have been that long.” “Do I even want to know what you were doing?” “Well, after Maxine’s little joke, I got great idea for a fic and-“ “A fic!” Sara groaned. “Slaggit. Why do I even bother?” With that the blonde began to walk away. Sam stood where she was for another second before following her friend. Just because Sara befriended her, doesn’t mean Sara understood her. It angered Sam to no end that Sara treated her as if she were blitzed out because Sam wanted to write fan fiction for a living. The fight they had about Sam becoming a “real author” was almost legendary at Hamilton High, up there with “ghost in the locker room” incident and trashing of the school incident. Regardless of Sara’s insensitivity on that one issue, Sara was a friend. Loyalty to and supporting of friends were important to both of them. And even Sam had to admit that she had failed her friend this time. “Wait, Sara. I’m really sorry.” Sara had at least slowed so that Sam could catch up with her. “Well, I mean, Sam – this was your chance to meet and talk to people. Real people. Not other people’s characters you manipulate in your notebook –“ “Can we not do this today?” Sam asked as she heard the beginnings of another fight about her hobby in Sara’s words. Sara probably would have fired back anyway if, at that moment, Terry McGinnis hadn’t jogged passed them to reach Maxine Gibson, chair of the Homecoming committee. “Well, at least you weren’t the only MIA helper. And you were there for the beginning.” “McGinnis is just getting here now?” Sam asked. “Looks like,” Sara agreed. “A little late, too. His ‘darling’ Dana stormed off in a huff thirty minute ago. Something about his ‘never coming through for her,’” “Ouch,” Sam agreed. Sara had opened her mouth to say something but the wind shifted just long enough to give the two girls audio to the visual that held their interest. They heard Nelson’s comment about Batman helping in Terry’s place and then his terse question to Maxine. “Someone does not look happy,” Sara commented. “Being the butt of a joke is not something that would make someone happy,” Sam whispered, feeling a mixture of feelings from a variety of memories. Sara chuckled as she watched the by-play between the “bad boy” and the “brain”. Moments like this, it was hard to believe that Terry and Maxine were friends. “He is really letting her have it. And she’s giving it right back. Guess she didn’t like his excuse for not helping either.” “It wasn’t an excuse,” Sam muttered, as she pushed up her glasses again. “Whatever. So what little thing set you off in quasi- writing land this time?” Sara turned her attention back to her socially inept friend. “It’s not quasi-writing, it’s - never mind. We aren’t going to agree on that. It was just something that Maxine said that gave me an idea, is all. I just wanted to jot it down before I forgot it…and I spent more time on fic prep than I thought.” “I know I’m going to be sorry I asked,” Sara said, “but what idea was that?” At first, Sam almost refused to share. Sara was probably only going to make fun of the idea anyway. To be honest, it was a hackneyed idea, but Sam was convinced she had a new spin on it. “The identity of Batman.” “The identity of the Bat? Samantha Kingsolver, are you serious?!” “Well, yeah. I admit that Batman was on the brain because the musical was in town earlier this year, but it was Maxine’s comments that had me thinking, what if Batman was a teen?” “A teen?” Sara said in a voice that showed that she clearly thought Sam was acting more blitzed out than usual. “Yes. Someone like Terry McGinnis.” That statement caused Sara to freeze for a few minutes. Then she burst out laughing. “Terry McGinnis as Batman? The boy can barely stay awake in class and meet his girlfriend on time. Saving Gotham routinely? Not hardly!” Sara shook her head as she wiped away tears. It had been a long time since she’d laughed that hard at something. “Well, it would definitely be fiction, I’ll give you that.” “I just hope it’s a different enough angle this time,” Sam agreed. The words “different enough angle” caused her only friend to sigh. “Samantha, what are you going to do with this fic?” “What do you mean?” Sam tried to ask innocently. The act didn’t fool Sara for a minute, unfortunately. “You know exactly what I mean. Are you going to submit it to one of the things or not?” “They are called fan fiction publishing houses. And, yes, I am.” “They are as much a publishing house as the Stein empire is a legitimate news entity.” “Hey! Fan fiction is not the same thing as tabloid journalism! Besides, it will be different this time. This time, I’m sending it to La Gotham Noir.” This caused Sara to turn around and stare at her friend. Now Sara didn’t know much about this “fan fiction” thing Sam hid behind instead of facing the world. But she did know some things; she had to learn something as she was the one who had to care for her friend when she was crushed by another rejection notice. One of the things Sara had managed to learn – completely against her will – was that La Gotham Noir, or LGN as it was referred to among “ficcers”, was the most elite fan fiction publishing house still in existence. “You are submitting this to La Gotham Noir?! You have blitzed out completely, haven’t you?” “Slaggit, Sara! You could try to be happy for me. For once!” “For once?!” “Or at least fake happy! I fake happy about your vintage Prada finds all the time. Who cares if you found an old pair of shoes? Honestly!” That almost had Sara sputtering. She really wanted to have it out over the Prada slur, but she let that go for a bigger fish. Sam was already an odd-ball with no social life and next to no self- esteem. Friends don’t let friends jump off a cliff. “Look, Sam. Remember all the rejection notices The Other Pen and Ficcerdom have sent you?” “But this is diff-“ “Let’s see. Your stories were OOC – whatever the hell that means – and full of mistakes, implausible, unsustainable, and choppy. They were too prosy. Too cerebral. Too-“ “Could you not recite every reject email I’ve ever gotten? I didn’t share those with you to give you attack ammunition,” Sam objected “This isn’t about ammunition; this is about reality. Your crappy little waste of time is going to explode in your face. Forgive me from wanting to save you from that and maybe help you make friends besides me!” Sara knew she might have gone too far the minute Sam went red. “My ‘crappy little waste of time’?” Sam repeated in a quiet voice. “Now, Sam –“ “No. I’ll show you. I will show you that this is different. But you might be partly right,” Sam seemed to concede. “Partly right, how?” Sara asked cautiously. Pushing up glasses back up from where they had slipped one last time, Sam replied, “It’s about time I actually made some friends. Real friends.” Then Sam turned around and walked away, leaving Sara out in front of the school. “Slaggit. I really could have done that better,” Sara whispered. Looking at her friend’s angry departure, Sara only hoped that Sam would come find her when LGN reject the thing she was writing. Because LGN would reject it, and that might be ugly for Sam. - to be continued -