Spider Quinn 18 A Birthday and Stormy Sonnets Part 3

 

SpiderGirl arrived at the cemetery and looked around her father’s grave. Nothing. ‘Good,’ she thought. She realised that she hadn’t been there since shortly before Groundhog Day. ‘Maybe before the rumors about the Enigma started circulating.’

She carefully looked around and saw that no one was around. “Hi, Daddy,” she said, with her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sixteen today. My sweet sixteen party will be later, at the Historia. Funny, if anyone had told me while you were still alive, that I would be a superhero, a tutor and involved in running a theater before I turned sixteen, I would have told them that they were crazy, yet here we are.”

 

She paused and looked around again before telling him of the Enigma and Dafoanairi and her unconfirmed suspicion that the latter was Daria. “…Like, if she is, then she’s taking a lot of risks, like I have powers, Talon is highly trained, the Shadow has those gadgets and the Enigma has her own powers. She only has that staff. But she did help during that rescue mission.” She then told him about the critics and Quentin Beck.

 

 

SpiderGirl felt better and knew it was time to go and get ready for the party. ‘But first, to patrol between here and home.’

 

 

Helen and Daria arrived at the Historia at 6:30. They could see that Quinn was still running about organising things. “You have done very well, Quinn,” Helen said.

 

“Thanks, Mom, but there’s still more to do.”

 

“I know, just ask and Daria and I will help,” Helen said.

 

“Of course,” Quinn said. She handed them a short list.

 

“Set the tables?” Daria asked. “I can do that.”

 

 

As she went from table to table, Daria reflected that she certainly wouldn’t have been helping Quinn with her party if she hadn’t been changing.

 

 

Tori Jericho arrived at the Historia to find the café area tastefully decorated. ‘Quinn knows what she’s doing,’ she thought.

 

“That looks good,” her mother said. “It could have been some tasteless explosion of pink.”

 

“Quinn may wear a pink shirt most of the time, but she has a good color sense.”

 

“I guess so. But she’s still wearing those pigtails like some kind of safety blanket.”

 

“You think so?” Tori asked. “I think it’s more a way she’s expressing herself, that she’s more than the grieving daughter.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

 

The Shadow looked around the theater as she arrived. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. She changed to the usual Jane in a side alley before going inside.

 

Daria saw Jane enter the café and went over to her. “What do you think?”

 

“This is all Quinn?” she asked.

 

“Her tastes are shifting, although Stacy had helped with the design.”

 

“That’s not surprising.” Stacy always had an interest in design.

 

 

As the party got underway, Sandi was at home, ready to make the next search. She opened the yearbook. After Eliana Dillinger was Wendy Doherty. She downed the energy drink. “Findu mann sem heiter: Wendy Doherty!”

 

She found that Wendy was on a date with Skyler Fieldman at Chez Pierre.

 

“Skyler, right,” Sandi said shortly after. It was just as well she wasn’t at Quinn’s party. “Twenty four down.”

 

She then thought that she could get in a short patrol as the Enigma before coming back to do some homework. ‘I know Dafoanairi is at the party, but then Daria hasn’t said she has been patrolling in the evenings.’ She decided to do a patrol anyway.

 

 

Back at the Historia, Quinn welcomed those she had invited, and some she hadn’t, although the latter didn’t matter. “Jeffy! I glad you made it,” she said.

 

“I wasn’t going to miss this,” Jeffy Brown-Mercer said. He lowered his voice. “I even turned down a date with Wendy Doherty.”

 

“I don’t know her that well,” Quinn admitted.

 

“She’s quiet, and she’s on a date with Skyler tonight.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“I’m happy that the play went well last week despite what went on,” Jeffy said.

 

“Yes, that has been an encouragement,” Quinn said. “For Daria too.”

 

Joey then came up. “Quinn has done her best, especially tonight,” he said.

 

 

Stacy found Daria and Jane. “What do you think?” she asked.

 

“Both of you have done well,” Jane praised. “It is quite tasteful.”

 

“Thanks. I wanted a little more subtle colors, but you know Quinn, she wanted bolder colors, to reflect her personality. At least that part of her hasn’t changed,” Stacy said.

 

“You sound more worried than usual,” Jane said.

 

“Like, she’s still not as talkative as before,” Stacy said.

 

“It’s still not that long after Dad’s death,” Daria said. “We’re still in the early stages of grief.”

 

“Oh, of course. And I see that you’re changing too,” Stacy responded.

 

“You mean the lunch table?” Daria asked. “Like, you don’t mind that Sandi’s there, do you?”

 

“That wasn’t what I meant. You used to have just Jane there,” Stacy said.

 

Daria shrugged. “It’s part of what I’m doing now, finding out about what’s going on in Lawndale.”

 

“I heard about that,” Stacy said.

 

 

Helen was talking to Tori’s mother, Penelope. “So, it’s one of the other journalists who is writing out most of the speculative articles?” she asked.

 

“Yes,” Penelope answered. “I do more investigative journalism, especially these days.”

 

“That makes sense,” Helen commented.

 

“Like a certain corporation’s influence,” Penelope added quietly, her voice barely above the surrounding chatter.

 

“I have heard things, but not officially,” Helen confirmed.

 

“No doubt.”

 

 

Tiffany looked around the café from where she sipped her diet soda. Many people were talking. She sighed. Quinn was busy, talking to many who were in their classes. ‘Amazing how popular she still is.’ She turned and saw Brittany coming over. ‘Brittany?’ she asked herself. “Hi,” she said in her usual shy and slow tone.

 

“I noticed you’re by yourself,” Brittany said.

 

“People think I’m boring,” Tiffany responded.

 

“Quinn doesn’t.”

 

“I know she doesn’t, but she’s busy.”

 

“That’s Quinn for you,” Brittany said with a smile. “She’s a social butterfly. Her focus wanders from person to person.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

 

The Enigma stopped before entering the downtown area. She didn’t want to go near the Historia. I have a better idea,’ she thought as she looked further east. Lawndale Flats. She hadn’t patrolled there yet. ‘But is this the night to do it?’ She decided to find a vantage point in the downtown area other than the Historia. The night seemed quiet so far, but something seemed off, like Lawndale was unsettled after the events of the past month, since shortly before the Groundhog Day Attack.

‘That is exactly it,’ she thought again. ‘The town was changing before the Goblin decided to attack the festival, but not it’s also changing in other ways.’

 

She found an office building, which she was sure didn’t belong to Oscorp, two blocks away from the Historia, and watched the downtown from there.

 

 

The party was going well. Quinn sat next to Tori as dinner was served.

 

“It’s been a good night so far,” Tori said.

 

“Yes. It has helped me to get my mind off things, and there are few here I haven’t talked to for a while.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

“And It’s relaxing compared to a usual school night,” Quinn added, with a giggle.

 

“That’s certainly true.”

 

“And it reminds me of the good things too.”

 

 

Daria sat across from Jamie White. “It’s good to see you here, supporting Quinn.”

 

“I felt bad, after trying to take credit for solving the brownouts.”

 

“But she forgave you, right?”

 

“She did,” Jamie answered with a smile. “But overall, she’s changed. I thought I could change too.”

 

“I guess that is why you wanted have the credit.”

 

“Yes, but I was also trying to impress Elly Aitkin.”

 

“And she found out,” Daria surmised.

 

“Exactly, but I have realised that not being myself wouldn’t have been good.”

 

“Good.”

 

 

The Enigma had watched for over an hour before she heard sirens near the creek. She then went in that direction, using her powers to jump from rooftop to rooftop where they were close together.

 

She found that Peterson was on the scene.

 

“Enigma?” Peterson asked. “We caught a thief.”

 

“I suppose that they have noticed patterns in our activity.”

 

“That is likely.”

 

“We have lives,” the Enigma groused.

 

“SpiderGirl has often said that.”

 

“Of course she would.”

 

“I know you don’t like her,” Peterson said.

 

“Nothing you’ll say will dissuade me,” the Enigma said as she turned to leave.

 

“Remember, I know who Dafoanairi is. I can use that to figure out who you are.”

 

The Enigma thought about it. “You’re not going to blackmail me, and I will tell Dafoanairi later,” she said. ‘Of course, she knows Dafoanairi is Daria, given the rescue of Beresfield.’

 

“That wasn’t my intention.”

 

“Then what was it?”

 

“So that you and SpiderGirl won’t fight, because that won’t be good for Lawndale,” Peterson said.

 

“What we think is good for Lawndale is certainly different.”

 

“True, but the people of Lawndale will have a negative opinion of the fourth vigilante if she keeps fighting SpiderGirl.”

 

“I wouldn’t be fighting her all the time. Just being her rival,” the Enigma said.

 

“Right. But I advise you to be careful.”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

 

After the meal, Quinn got up for a speech. “Thank you for coming,” she started. “Everyone here has been with me these past few months since my father passed away. It has been difficult, but knowing that you all care has been comforting.” She wiped a tear. She then continued. “Those who have been especially helpful are too many to list but they know who they are.” She glanced at Daria and Brittany quickly, as well as Stacy, Tori, and Joey. She continued for a short while before finishing.

 

The room was then filled with a brief applause and her mother got up and came over for a hug. “That was very good, Quinn!” she said, also tearing up.

 

“Thanks, Mom.”

 

 

The Enigma returned to the vantage point she had been at earlier. She was still thinking about what Peterson said. ‘I hope she won’t be opposing Dafoanairi and I after I actually confront SpiderGirl!’ That would be a massive inconvenience.

 

 

The party had gone better than Quinn had expected. She had enjoyed herself and everyone else did too. She knew she was going to thank Brittany for keeping Tiffany company. She had realised that she didn’t realise how quiet and shy Tiffany was. ‘And it’s not just due to how she speaks.’

 

“I had a good time,” Tiffany said as she left.

 

“That’s great!”

 

“I’ll be at the play this Friday. I have heard how good it is.”

 

“Daria will be glad to hear that,” Quinn said.

 

“I hope she finds out who left that poem.”

 

“So do I,” Quinn said. That situation had slipped her mind during the party.

 

 

“You’re talking to everyone as they leave?” Jane asked shortly afterwards.

 

“Not really,” Quinn said. “Just most of those I didn’t get to talk to earlier.”

 

“I never thought I would go to one of your parties, but here we are.”

 

“I never thought you would have come to one of mine either. A lot is changing.”

 

“That’s true,” Jane said. “And it helped get my mind off things.”

 

“Oh, of course. How are you holding up?” Quinn asked, referring to Jane’s recent experience with Beck.

 

“Pouring it into my art, as well as talking to Trent and Daria.”

 

“That’s good. You can talk to me too, if you want.”

 

“Thanks,” Jane said.

 

 

Helen thought about the night as she drove home. Both Quinn and Daria missed their father, much as she did, but they were resilient. Quinn’s speech was proof that she was coping despite still struggling with her grief. “You did well tonight, Quinn,” she said as she glanced towards where she was sitting in the passenger seat.

 

“Thanks, Mom. That means a lot,” Quinn said quietly, with a smile on her face.

 

She then looked in the rear-view mirror. “You too, Daria.”

 

“I didn’t do much tonight,” Daria said. “It was all Quinn.”

 

Helen sighed. “You know what I mean. You have been there for each other through these times. That makes me happy in the middle of my own grief.”

 

 

Quinn glanced at her mother. She could see that she was missing her husband dearly. It strengthened her resolve to do more as SpiderGirl, so that others wouldn’t lose their parents. ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’

 

 

It was in the early hours of the morning when Daria approached her father’s grave again. “What am I doing?” she asked herself. “This is crazy.” She looked around. She saw someone hiding behind one of the gravestones nearby. She grabbed her quarterstaff. “Wait! Are you the person who left that poem here before? It was interesting. A mashup of Shakespeare. Although it is a little creepy in context.” She looked closer and saw that it was a teen boy around her age.

 

“You think it’s creepy?” the boy asked.

 

“Leaving it at my father’s grave.”

 

“I guess that it could be seen that way.”

 

Daria sighed. “What is your name.”

 

“William, like the Bard.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No, it was like my great uncle, who wasn’t poetic, but it sounded good didn’t it?”

 

“Not really,” Daria said. “Why are you leaving poems on graves?”

 

“Because you inspire me.”

 

Daria then shone her flashlight on his face.

 

William then knocked it out of her hand. “No, don’t.”

 

Quinn then appeared nearby. “Get away from her!” she said.

 

William panicked and ran, and therefore tripped on something. “Ow!”

 

 

Quinn saw that William had hurt himself. She had followed as SpiderGirl after Daria had left home in the direction of the cemetery and had changed to her usual self behind a mausoleum.

 

“Are you OK?” Daria asked. “My sister was just looking out for me.”

 

“Yeah!” Quinn said. “Like, I saw you lashing out at her.”

 

“It’s a long story,” William said, his voice tinged with pain. He reached up and touched the back of head and.

 

“Oh! He’s bleeding!” Quinn said, as she took a stack of tissues out of a pocket.

 

“We need to get him somewhere,” Daria said.

 

“The Historia?” Quinn asked.

 

“Better than taking him home.”