“I know.”
Except knowing something and doing something are two entirely different things.
“Come on,” I say. “I'm starving.”
She doesn't look convinced. But she starts walking again.
We make it outside. Only when the Academy doors close behind us do I breathe a little easier. Next, we head toward the parking lot.
“So where are we going?”
“Dinner.”
“I gathered that.”
“Wulfy made reservations.”
“Where?”
“You'll see.”
I narrow my eyes.
“I hate when you do that.”
“You love surprises.”
“I like presents. That's different.”
Then I see what's waiting near the curb.
I stop.
A huge black limousine sits beneath the parking lot lights.
Not a regular limo.
One of those sleek, expensive monstrosities that looks like it should be transporting royalty, movie stars, or someone who's about to purchase a professional sports team.
“Whoa.”
Dora keeps walking. I don't.
“Is there something going on here?”
She glances back.
“No.”
I point at the limo.
“That is not a nothing-going-on vehicle.”
She laughs.
“We're riding with Wulfy's friend.”
“Who is Wulfy's friend? Bruce Wayne?”