The sun had already started setting, way too early like it always did this time of year. After Riley insisting that they didn't teleport, Abigail acquiesced and took the BART downtown to central SF, first to Powell Street station, then with the cable car up to Hyde and Lombard. The city was different here, much more vibrant and charming than the same row of houses repeated over and over like she knew from Twin Peaks.

Abigail Louden's house was in the middle of San Francisco. 1040 Lombard Street, one of the most expensive addresses, right on the iconic winding road that connected the Presidio and the Embarcadero. The house was painted blue, with wooden support beams that lent it a rustic feel. Their family name was engraved on the metal plate next to the front door.

"We're here. This is where I live." Abigail rifled through her pocket and pulled out a key, opened the door and invited Riley in. "I'm home!" She yelled into the hallway - her voice echoed a little bouncing under the tall townhouse ceilings.

"Abby!" A woman said, presumably Abigail's mother, peeking out from behind a door frame. "Front door this time?"

"Yeah." She answered and dragged Riley inside. "This is my friend Riley." Her friend Riley. Hearing that was an unfamiliar feeling, and Riley wasn't entirely sure that she enjoyed it.

"Nice to meet you, Riley. I'm Donna," Donna Louden said and reached out to shake Riley's hand. When she took it, Riley immediately felt better. There was something about Abigail's mother that radiated an immense aura of calmness and comfort, and Riley felt like she could trust her with anything - even though her brain told her that it might still not be a good idea to lay bare her soul immediately.

"Mom, I... gotta tell you something. And you can't freak out."

"You can tell me anything, hon." That was weird. That wasn't how parents acted, or at least not how Riley's dad acted. Parents didn't care. "What is it?"

"Do you want to tell her or should I?" Abigail said and turned towards Riley. Without even thinking, Riley threw caution to the wind.

"I can teleport." She blurted out. Donna Louden's expression changed to one of surprise, then she adjusted her glasses.

"Oh, my."

"Yeah. And we're trying to figure out if there's more of us. More... superheroes." Riley cringed at that, but Abigail was mostly right.

"People with superpowers." Riley corrected. "We... haven't found a good name for it yet."

"That's... quite a surprise." Donna Louden looked at her daughter, exchanging a look the meaning of which Riley wasn't privy to. Then, she looked Riley in the eyes - but unlike her usual reaction, Riley didn't mind the eye contact. "Do your parents know?"

Abigail went to hang up her jacket, and Riley shook her head. "No. And I think it's better that way. He... might be trying to do the same thing that we're doing. Finding other... empowered people."

"You can't trust your father?" Donna Louden said and put down the dishrag she was holding.

"He works for the government. Has security cameras and measuring equipment everywhere. If he found out I was living right under his nose, he'd..." A tear crept into Riley's eye, and while she did have the wherewithal to wipe it away quickly, Donna Louden still caught on. "Who knows what he'd do."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"I feel... terrible. Like I'm not supposed to be like this. I don't fit in, I never have, and he's just... I wish he would just understand that I'm just-"

"Mom!" Abigail called out, coming back from the jacket closet. "Don't therapy-ify her!"

"You're right, you're right." Whatever was happening, Riley snapped out of it. She hadn't really even realised she was speaking her feelings out loud, it just felt... right to tell Donna Louden.

---

"Sorry, sorry, my mom is just... like that." Abigail said and sat down on the sofa in her bedroom, which was nearly twice the size of Riley's. "She's a therapist. And she's really good at it. Sometimes she even... just does therapy without realising."

"That's why she knows, isn't it? You tried to keep it secret, but with her, there's no chance of that."

"Guilty as charged" Abigail sighed. Riley took out her log and started scribbling. In maths class, she'd made an entire spread just on Abigail Louden. She was five foot four, wore her long brown hair open, from how thick her glasses were she most likely had a severe case of myopia, and well, she could teleport. Next to a drawing of her - crude, low in detail, but recognisably Abigail nonetheless - Riley added a section about her family. Dr. Donna Louden, psychotherapist. Knows about powers. "Are you writing about me?"

Riley slammed the log shut. "No."

"Let me see." Abigail said and tried to grab the red notebook, but Riley was quicker.

"No! It's my log. If you want one, make your own."

"Fine, fine. But there's nothing embarrassing in there about me, right?"

Riley sighed and paged to Abigail's spread again and showed it to her. "Don't make fun of me."

"Oh, wow. Nice drawing" Abigail said, completely disregarding the text around it. "You're... pretty good at that. Art, I mean."

"It's not art. It's a representation. I don't... claim to be an artist. I just draw what I see. Transfer what's in the world on the page."

"No kidding." Abigail said, admiring the sketch. Riley didn't get that. It wasn't even a particularly good drawing, to her at least. "Do you draw everyone you meet?" She asked and flipped through it.

"Hey!"

"Allen Truman," she read out loud. "Your dad, right?"

Riley nodded. That was one of the better drawings, she'd spent the better half of a school day on it. Allen Truman was balding, with a salt-and-pepper beard, a very small nose and rimless glasses. Numbers next to the drawing identified him as six foot two, and two hundred pounds. By all means, he took care of himself, even if he tended to ignore his daughter. Scientist, for the US government. Working on top secret projects, classified projects. At least that's what he told her, and Riley knew he was too uptight to ever share anything beyond that.

"He looks friendly, though."

"He does not." Riley said and took the log back, looking at the drawing. Without realising it, she'd drawn Allen Truman smiling. "I mean, that's... not how I see him. Not really, anyways."

"So what's he like?"

"Distant. Absorbed in his work. Obsessed with it, like he's watching the world under a microscope. Including me." She paused, closed the book, scooting into the corner of Abigail's sofa. She pulled her knees up to her chest, making herself as small as possible. "Sometimes I wonder if he knows. If those machines, all that measuring equipment in the garage... if it's all for me."

"That sounds awful." Despite barely knowing her, Abigail's voice was gentle, soft. She must've gotten that from her mother.

Riley shook her head. "It's fine. I'm used to it," she lied. "What matters is figuring out how many more there are of us, where they are, and why they have these abilities in the first place."

"And why they're all teenagers."

"Hm?"

"You'd think if any adults could teleport, we'd hear about it, right?"

"...good point." Riley grabbed her log again, pulled a pencil out of her pocket and began scribbling. "Really good point. Hadn't even picked up on that."

"What if it's like the X-Men? Like, you get your superpowers as a teenager?" Abigail grinned.

"This isn't a movie, Abigail."

"I was talking about the comics, really, but sure."

"You read those?" Riley grinned.

"Course I do! Gotta... know your people." She got off the bed, walked over to her closet and got out a box labelled superhero stuff. She opened it, revealing a colourful patched-together jacket. Embarrassed, she quickly grabbed it and held it behind her back. Underneath the jacket were at least a hundred comic books, of all kinds. X-Men, sure, but also Superman, Spider-Man, Invincible, the Avengers... Abigail really loved them.

Hang on, Riley thought. "Is that..."

"No!" She said and threw the jacket into the laundry hamper. "It's not."

"You made a costume." Riley laughed. "Oh my god, you made a superhero costume!"

"I did not!" Abby protested, becoming as red as the evening sun over the bay. "It's... an art project!"

Riley hopped off the couch and took the jacket out of the hamper. It was... bright pink, with yellow accents, and she had sewn a cape to the back, one that was presumably made out of a tablecloth. "You totally did!"

"Gimme that!"

"Oh gosh, that's amazing." Riley couldn't stop laughing, holding the makeshift costume just out of her friend's reach. "When did you make this?"

"Last year" Abigail admitted, covering her face in exaggerated shame. "I was... I dunno." Despite this, she was grinning. "Thought I could help people. Like a superhero."

Riley eventually got hold of herself again, looking at the costume more carefully. She ran her fingers over the amateur stitching that held the cape in place. Even if it was completely ridiculous, Abby had put real care into making it. "So... did you ever...?"

"Use it? God no." She flopped back onto her bed. "Chickened out. Also, I never finished the mask that should go with it." She sighed, looking over at Riley, who was probably considering trying it on, even if it would have been far too large for her. "Also, SF is weird, but not that weird. Imagine the headlines."

"Mystery girl in pink tablecloth saves cat from tree?" Riley joked.

"Hey, it's better than Government captures teenager that can teleport." Riley folded it back up again and sat down on the bed, next to her.

"Sorry for laughing."

"It's fine. It is pretty stupid."

"I don't think so. It's... kind of brave." She sighed. "You wanted to help people. I just wanted to hide."

Abby took the costume back and put it in the box of superhero stuff.

"Did you ever... come up with a secret identity?"

Abby covered her face again. "I totally did."

"Well now you gotta tell me." Riley grinned. She didn't have this much fun in years, especially not with someone who was so much like her.

"Promise you won't laugh?" Abby asked, still hiding behind her hands. Riley nodded solemnly, though her eyes betrayed her amusement. "I called myself... Blink."

"Blink?" Riley considered it for a moment. "Because you disappear in the blink of an eye?"

"Yeah. And because... well, you blink and you miss me." Abby peeked through her fingers. "God, it sounds so dumb saying it out loud."

"No, it's... actually kind of cool." Riley pulled out her log again, flipping to Abby's page. "Mind if I add that?"

"Only if you tell me yours too. What would your secret identity be?"

"Never thought about it," Riley admitted, writing down the adorable fact she'd just learned about her friend. "Don't really see myself as a superhero."

"Come on, everyone thinks about that at least once."

Riley thought for a moment. "Quantum. Cause... teleportation. You're kinda in two places at once, but not really."

"Sciencey. I like it. Suits you."

"So what was your plan? What kinda hero stuff would Blink be doing?"

"She'd... get people to hospitals faster than an ambulance. Stop robberies by teleporting the bad guys right into prison. Y'know, superhero stuff." She laughed softly at that. "But then I realised I'd just teleport someone into a wall by accident."

Riley looked up from her drawing. She was giving the Abby she had drawn a twin sister, wearing her superhero outfit. "Can that happen?"

"Dunno. Never tried teleporting with someone else." She sat up. "Have you?"

"No way. Way too risky. No telling what could happen. And even if, how would it even work? Do you think we'd have to be touching or would it work to just be close enough?"

"We... could find out."

Riley closed her log. "No. Absolutely not. We're not experimenting with our powers. That's how you get caught."

"And once we do, the government has a nicely illustrated book of all the things you know about is." She had a point. "Are you not the least bit curious?"

"It's not about that," Riley dodged the question. "But Derek got in trouble because he couldn't help but showing off."

"That's different. He was saving someone. Hero stuff."

"And now he's god knows where. Worked out great." She stood up, pacing the room, around the perimeter of the rainbow-coloured oblong rug on the floor. "We need to be smarter about this. Yes, we need to understand what's happening to us, but can't just experiment randomly. We need a system. Rules."

"Rules?" Abigail raised an eyebrow.

"Like..." Riley sat down on the sofa again and opened a fresh page in her log. "No using powers in public. No telling anyone else, sorry about your mother. No trying new things without talking about it first, and absolutely no hero stuff."

"Buzzkill."

"Look, I get it. You want to help people. But with my dad around, we just can't afford to be sloppy."

"If you wanna be alone, we can always go to the cabin."

"Tahoe?"

She nodded. "Pretty isolated this time of year, and the nearest town is half an hour away by car. We could go there, figure out how our powers work..." Abby was already picturing it, smiling gently. "Think about it. Our own secret hideout. Our Batcave."

"Don't think that's such a good idea."

"Come on, just one weekend. And if anything goes wrong, we can always go back to SF."

Riley looked at her log, at her pages of notes and idle observations about her and Abby. She could finally have a few of those questions answered, and admittedly, the idea sounded tempting.

"I'll think about it," she said finally. "But we'd need to plan everything out first. No improvising, no doing without thinking."

"Deal." Abby held out her hand. "Partners?"

Riley hesitated for a moment, but shook it. "Partners. But we're not calling ourselves superheroes."

"Fine." Abby reached into the box again and took her costume out, holding it against herself. "But I'm keeping it. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case the world needs saving."

Riley rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She pulled out her cell phone, seeing multiple missed calls from her dad. "I should go. Before the government sends a search party."

"I'll walk you to the streetcar." She hopped off her bed, brought her up the winding sidewalks of Lombard Street and to the streetcar stop. A tram was already waiting. "Text me when you get home so I know you're safe?"

"Yeah." She nodded, touched by her concern. "And... Abby? Thanks. For... today, for everything."

"That's what partners are for." Riley hopped onto the wooden bench on the streetcar, and it slowly pulled away.

"See you tomorrow, Blink!" She called out, catching a glimpse of Abby's smile as the tram rolled down Hyde Street towards the Embarcadero. She put her earbuds in, turned on some music, and opened her log again.

In pencil, she added a note to the bottom of Abby's page. Partner in investigation. Curious but optimistic.

Then, she drew a tiny sketch of a figure in a pink cape, teleporting from one corner of the page to the other.