Supergirl by Norma Fox Mazer Read Free Book Online Page A

Lane could grab on to. So . . . sort of, well . . . ordinary . Bumm-er! Just when she thought she had it all together, dandy old Danvers had to stick her with a roomie.
    "I'm Linda Lee," Linda Lee said.
    Lucy stopped popping her gum and took another look. There was something really neat about the way Linda Lee had introduced herself, sort of simple and unpretentious. Maybe she wouldn't be such a doofy roomie, after all.
    "I'm Lucy Lane." She stuck out her hand and the two girls shook.
    "Lucy Lee," Mr. Danvers said, feeling left out, "this is Linda Lane."
    "Mr. Danvers," Lucy said, "She's Linda Lee , and I'm—"
    "Lucy Lane ," Linda Lee finished for her.
    Mr. Danvers looked from one to the other. "You two know each other?"
    "Sure!"
    "For how long?"
    "Oh, we've known each other for ages. Haven't we, Linda?"
    Mr. Danvers narrowed his eyes in thought. Enlightenment came. "Ahh! Now I understand! The Daily Planet Of course! Linda Lee's cousin works there, and so does your sister, what's-'ername, the one who's always calling and pestering me."
    "Lois," Lucy said distinctly. "Her name is Lois Lane, Mr. Danvers. Sir."
    "Right, that's the one. Well." He opened the door. "Show our new Miss Lane around, Miss Glee." He was back again immediately to add, "She's an orphan, but don't let her play on your sympathies with that ." And, finally, he was gone.
    "Sooo," Lucy said, sitting down on her bed, "who's your cousin?"
    "Clark Kent." Linda Lee cleared a place for herself on the other bed. She was still trying to get used to the idea that she was actually going to live here.
    "Clark Kent! You're kidding me!" Lucy jumped up. "You are putting me on! Clark Kent?"
    Linda Lee nodded. "Do you know him?"
    "Know him?" In her excitement, Lucy swept half the junk off the other bed, sending up a cloud of dust. Apples and oranges rolled across the floor. "Do I know Clark Kent? Better ask, does my sister know Clark Kent?" She winked. "Now, that is the big question."
    "Well, if they both work at the Daily Planet ," Linda Lee said, "I'm sure she must know him."
    Lucy's mouth opened in astonishment. Was this girl fa real ? Come on! That simple-Sue act had to be a put-on. A send-up. Mock-out city . . . ! Or was it? Something about Linda Lee's eyes suddenly convinced Lucy that the other girl was innocent about certain things . A babe in the woods. Wet behind the ears. In Lucy's usually carefree heart, a protective, almost maternal feeling bloomed. She would have to look out for this one, watch her like a mother hen to make sure no one took advantage.
    "Is this my bed?" Linda Lee asked.
    "Sure," Lucy said, stepping over the junk on the floor, "but we don't sleep around here. Nonstop excitement in this dorm. All the real dementos are sent here." She grinned. "Welcome to the monkey house! When's the rest of your stuff coming?"
    Linda Lee held out her hands. "That's it. I don't have anything else."
    "It's all in—that?" Lucy said, nodding at the knapsack.
    "I have money, but I haven't had a chance to buy—" Linda Lee broke off to point at the huge Superman poster. "Do you know him?"
    "Sure," Lucy bragged. "My sister's got something special going with the big guy. He's a real hunk. I'll introduce you someday, maybe . . . What do you mean, you haven't had a chance—since when? Since what? Did you lose all your stuff in a fire, or what? Is that how your parents were killed?"
    Linda Lee looked away. "I'd rather not talk about it"
    Lucy was contrite. "I'm sorry. Me and my motor mouth. Sometimes I just don't think. Listen, Linda, don't worry about a thing, you can borrow my clothes, or anything you want. Help yourself."
    "Thank you, Lucy." Linda Lee touched the Superman poster. Everything really was working out.

Chapter Eight
    Life at Midvale School, Linda Lee quickly learned, might be a lot of things, but it was never dull. The teachers were either ornery, unpleasant, or nasty (sometimes all three at once); their housemother, Mrs. M., was always alcoholic, usually