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“Okay,” Colin said, “looks like we’re going to Plan B.”
Damian scoffed. “We are far past Plan B.”
“Yeah, this is, like, Plan M or something,” said Billy.
The three of them were in three different positions in Billy’s bedroom—Damian in a chair, Colin with the upper half of his body hanging off the top bunk, and Billy sprawled out on the carpet like a snow angel among crumpled post-its, filled notebooks, and empty chip bags.
The latter groaned. “Why is this so complicated?”
“You’d think a giant chocolate heart would work,” said Colin. “At this point, he’s either messing with us or he’s the most clueless guy in the world.”
“I am opting for cluelessness.” Damian clicked his pen repeatedly. “He does not possess the capacity to deceive people.” He did not wish to entertain the possibility of his crush not feeling the same way quite yet.
“Didn’t you pretend to be his bus driver once?” Billy asked.
“Tt, that was too easy.”
Unlike this. Ever since Damian’s brain decided to release serotonin around a certain half-Kryptonian, his life has been, as his brother would put it, a hot mess. Colin and Billy figured it out on their own and offered their matchmaking services.
Which is turning out to be an even hotter mess.
“Have we tried hiring a mariachi band to follow him around?” Colin asked.
“Twice,” Billy replied.
Colin rubbed his eyes. “Can we think of other stuff Jon likes?”
Damian thought for a second. “Candy, but we already tried that with the chocolate.”
“We could try a different candy.”
“I get what you’re saying!” Billy scrambled up and flipped to one of the few empty pages left in a graph paper notepad. His tongue poked out as he furiously sketched before turning it around to reveal a stick figure connected to a vertical line. “We’ll get a hundred-foot licorice rope and lower Damian in dressed as baby Cupid—”
“Absolutely not,” Damian said.
“… I was gonna suggest getting him a gift basket or something,” said Colin.
Damian opened his laptop. “How big of a basket are we thinking?”
“Mama mia,” Colin said. “That is an enormous basket.”
“Why are you Italian?” Billy asked.
“Why aren’t you Italian?”
Damian didn’t pay attention to either of them as he directed the forklift driver with his orange traffic batons. A woven Easter basket rested on the long yellow forks, the inside of which was piled high with every sweet treat imaginable and a bow the size of a body pillow at the top of the arched rainbow handle.
He patted the side of the basket. “This should be sufficient. Unfortunately, Father would not permit me to get a bigger one.”
“There’s a bigger one?” Colin asked.
Damian motioned for them to hide. Colin and Billy dove behind the hedges as Damian threw a pebble at Jon’s bedroom window. Colin flashed a thumbs up. Billy pushed his Colin’s out of view.
Jon opened the window. “What’s this?”
“I have compiled all your favorite sweets into this basket especially for you,” Damian said.
Jon’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, you got strawberry licorice, my favorite!”
He shoved the end of the hundred-foot rope into his mouth. Damian watched on for about three feet of it before saying again, “I got it especially for you.”
“You that that already,” Jon said, a licorice string dangling out of his mouth.
Damian held back a scoff. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”
Billy opened to a clean page. “Alright, Operation Easter Basket didn’t work, but I have another idea.”
“Does it involve me dressing up as a mythological figment of love?” Damian asked.
“No, unless you wanna—”
“I do not want to,” he said. “Proceed.”
“Okay.” Billy drew a rectangle. “I call this one Operation Exorcist.”
“We’re gonna exorcise Jon?” Colin asked. “What’s that gonna do?”
“I don’t mean a real exorcism. I’m talking about the movie. You know, The Exorcist ?”
Billy sketched a row of little lumps like rounded teeth in front of the rectangle. He added two stick figures—one with straight spiky hair and the other bald, because apparently he can’t draw any other hairstyle. The bald one was cowering in the spiky-haired one’s arms. On the movie screen was a bad rendition of the purple devil emoji.
He said, “We’re gonna take Jon to the movies. He hates horrors, so he’s gonna go right into Damian’s arms. It’s foolproof.”
“Billy and I can go as moral support,” Colin said. “We’ll just sit way in the back and you can give us a signal if something goes wrong.”
Damian hummed approvingly. “Not bad, Batson. Not bad at all.”
“Four tickets for The Exorcist, please,” Billy said.
“Sorry kid, that’s rated R. Come back with an adult,” said the employee.
“Now what?” Damian asked. “Kent is going to be here any moment.”
“I got this,” said Billy.
He stepped out the door, said a bored “Shazam”, stepped back inside with his full scarlet suit and alabaster cape, and walked up to the counter.
“Four tickets to The Exorcist, please.”
The employee handed them to him. Billy added, “Also, adults can buy beer with their popcorn, right?”
Damian whacked him in the arm.
“Owie! That hurt like a butt cheek on a stick!”
Jon arrived just as they finished at the concessions, Colin and a regular-sized Billy munching away at a shared popcorn tub.
Billy handed Jon a ticket. “They didn’t have any seats left, so we gotta split into two groups.” He threw his arm around Colin. “Colin and I are movie buddies, you know. Hope you don’t mind sitting with Damian.”
“Oh, that’s fine!” Jon said. “What’re we seeing?”
“The Exorcist,” said Damian.
“Ooh, sounds fun. I can’t wait to see what it’s about.”
Five minutes into the movie saw Jon running outside, bawling. Damian glared not knives, not daggers, but entire swords at Billy.
Billy chuckled nervously. “Back to the drawing board?”
“A bath bomb,” Billy deadpanned.
“Tt, it’s not a bath bomb,” Damian said. “Though technically any bomb can be a bath bomb. But no, this is a state-of-the-art glitter and red smoke grenade infused with rose oil and compressed flower petals. I will detonate this in Kent’s room tonight.”
Colin and Billy looked at each other and shrugged. “Sounds good.”
Damian whispered into his commlink, “Is everyone in position.”
“Why do I have to wear the plant hat?” Colin asked.
“Batson’s head was too big,” Damian said. “Speaking of whom, status?”
“I got eyes on the Kents,” Billy said, tree branches rustling with each movement. “Now’s the time. His parents and brother are asleep and Jon’s in his room.”
“Excellent.”
From a different tree, Damian locked eyes with Billy, who gave a thumbs-up. He silently dropped to the dewy grass and rolled to the hedge under the window where Colin waited.
Colin cupped his hands together, morphed them into a large meaty platform, and boosted Damian up. Damian’s fingers latched on the edge of the windowsill. He jimmied the lock open with one of his spare knives. It slid open a crack, which was enough for him. Loud snores filled the room.
Damian pulled the pin.
The grenade landed at the foot of Jon’s bed. Damian fell back into the bushes.
FWOOM.
The window opened. A carnation-red cloud erupted like a volcano.
Sticking his head out of the window was not Jon, but the other Superboy. Kon. With his face covered in the bright residue.
“Whoops,” Colin said. “Wrong window.”
Kon clenched his jaw. “JON, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”
The other window opened and Jon stuck his head out. He tilted his head at his brother. “What’s on your face?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your friends in the bushes? ”
“Oh, hey guys!” Jon waved. “Nice tree-climbing, Billy.”
“I’m glad someone noticed,” Billy said.
“Don’t you ‘hey guys’ them,” Kon said. “My entire room is red and it’s all their fault!”
A third window slid up and Papa Supes stuck his head out. “Boys, what are you doing? You should be asleep.”
“Don’t worry, Dad, we will,” Jon said.
“Alrighty then, goodnight.”
“Clark, wait—” Kon groaned when Clark closed the window. He jabbed a finger at Jon. “Fix this.”
Kon went back inside. Jon turned to the boys. “What was that about?”
Damian threw his hands up with a frustrated shout. “How oblivious can you be?!”
“Huh?”
“I like you. I have been trying to let you know for weeks, but you are by far the most clueless person I have ever met!” Damian exclaimed.
“Oh.” Jon’s cheeks reddened. “That’s what all this was?”
“Of course! What did you think?”
“I-I like you too, Dami. I didn’t think you felt the same, so I didn’t say anything.”
“I will forgive your denseness because you are cute.”
Colin cut in. “Are we done? Can we go home now?”
“You can go home.” Jon flew down and planted a kiss on Damian’s cheek. “I’ll see you on our first date. Tomorrow at seven work?”
“Seven sounds perfect,” Damian said. “I will see you then—”
They were cut off when Billy fell out of the tree.