How to Save the World by Lexie Dunne Read Free Book Online

me—­because she was; it was one of her favorite things to do. “It’s been less than a day. This is . . . what would you say? Peanuts. This is peanuts compared to what we usually deal with.”
    â€œI know.” I hit the punching bag with a fluttering combination, pulling my punches because I didn’t want to destroy Angélica’s equipment. Her gym, the Power House, was theoretically equipped for Class Cs, but I’d destroyed a punching bag the day she’d opened and she had yet to forgive me. “It’s the lack of information I hate most. Who’s doing this? Why? Where’s Mobius been? Why is this happening now?”
    â€œMm,” Angélica said.
    â€œAnd I know—­” I hit the bag again, a little harder, and she continued to brace it “—­Davenport won’t share any info. The only reason either of us know about this at all is because of Guy.”
    â€œAnd Kiki, don’t forget.”
    I sneaked a glance at my trainer and roommate out of the corner of my eye. If I had complicated feelings about Dr. Mobius, my creator, Angélica’s own thoughts on Kiki had to be a mess. Kiki had been the one to give her the Mobium, in order to save her life. Angélica still had her original powers, but they interacted strangely with the Mobium, and she didn’t use them as much now. I knew it frustrated her, but she never complained. Not to me, anyway. Even though we’d cut ties with Davenport, she still viewed our relationship the way she had while we were there, with the same determination to see me succeed and also to protect me. But how much of that loss did she blame on Kiki? Or did she blame Kiki at all? I’d never been able to tell.
    Midafternoon on a Saturday meant the gym was semipacked. Angélica had used some start-­up capital to gut an older warehouse not far from our apartment. She’d set up several boxing rings next to speed bags, punching bags, and weight training equipment. She had a room dedicated to treadmills and ellipticals, one I didn’t use as often. Now that I could run for ages, I preferred to be outside, sneakers pounding against the pavement and the wind in my hair. But I made plenty of use of the rest of the gym, particularly the boxing rings. Usually with Angélica herself.
    I hit the bag, a one-­two punch followed by an uppercut, and danced back. “Seriously, though, why now?”
    â€œI have no idea, Gail,” Angélica said.
    â€œNo theories?”
    â€œThey’d be theories and nothing more, and not actually all that satisfying.”
    I wrinkled my nose at her. “You’re being all Mr. Miyagi levels of inscrutable today.”
    â€œAm I?”
    â€œI’m just saying, you’re maybe taking this mentor thing a little far. Theatrically so.”
    â€œMm,” Angélica said, and I threw a wild punch at her forehead.
    She dodged easily and laughed. “You’re too easy.”
    â€œSo I’ve been told.”
    â€œNow can we talk about what’s really bothering you?” Angélica asked.
    I scowled and hit the bag hard enough to make it swing lazily, even with Angélica bracing it. “I’m worried about Guy. I don’t like him working with Brook. She’s dangerous. And no, before you say anything, I am not jealous that my boyfriend’s working with another woman.”
    â€œConsidering his usual crime-­fighting partner is an actual supermodel and that never seems to bother you,” Angélica said, “I didn’t think you were. Of course, I might change my mind, since jealousy is the first place your brain went. Are you jealous?”
    â€œNo,” I said, jabbing first at the bag and then at her.
    She dodged. “You sound a little jealous. Maybe it’s not Brook you’re jealous of, but Guy.”
    The idea was so absurd it made me laugh. “What the hell?”
    She tried to sweep