#19: Megatonic University

At least now I knew I was as tough as Megaton Man. I had survived being sucked up into the orbiting ICHHL satellite and the subsequent drop back to earth. My government-issued uniform and space helmet had proven their mettle as well. But that didn’t mean I considered myself a full-time megahero—far from it. For one thing, I was never one of those crime fighters who went around wearing her uniform under her street clothes in case she needed to change into her secret identity and save the world on a moment’s notice. I didn’t have one of those world-savior egos. Beat up somebody for cheating on their mid-term? For the most part, my Ms. Megaton Man uniform—along with my cool new visor and other accoutrements—remained safely tucked away in a garment bag in the back of my closet on Ann Street, although this never sat well with my cape, who loathed hibernation mode and yearned to be free.

#18: Origin Secrets

Kozmik Kat and I couldn’t agree whether he was now my sidekick or I was his—just in case we were ever officially called into action for some mission. We didn’t come to blows over this, since it was mostly hypothetical; as soon as the fall semester started, I planned to put my Quarantinium-Quelluminum mesh-fiber Ms. Megaton Man uniform in its garment bag and consign it to the back of the closet. The hard part was learning to put my cape into hibernation, which I could only do through some complex instructions on my touch-screen visor. But before I could do that, I still had one personal mission of my own to perform.

#17: Body by Nuke

What took place on my virgin flight and immediately thereafter has been greatly exaggerated in the media, most notably in that aforementioned scandalous “novel,” Megasomething. If you believed everything in that account, you’d be persuaded I had gone on a tear with every student athlete returning to the Arbor State campus for late-summer training camps—and taken on scores of lovers besides. The precise number bandied about is one hundred and twenty-seven men and thirty-one women—which was totally made up. I should know, because I made it up.

#16: Ms. Megaton Man Breaks Out!

That summer following my delayed junior-year freshman crisis began quietly enough. Duly chastened by the academic catastrophe of my own making, I begged and got myself hired back as a waitress at the Drowned Mug Café; all seemed forgiven and forgotten. I worked my ass off there for the entire month of May; when June rolled around, I went off again to Camp Michi-Fo-La-Ca again. So far, this was my typical summer routine.