Chapter 47

“I loved him.” I chuckled, embarrassed at my admission.

“Loved?”

I looked down at my lap. “Yeah, he was in many ways, my first love. I was so jealous of Batman, I actually drew a short storyboard in which I killed Batman off. In my comic book, Batman dies in a car crash, trapped in his ridiculously pretentious Batmobile, and then Robin is left alone in the mansion and that’s when I come in.”

Jack seemed enthralled, forgetting to drink. “Right…and?”

I looked up and our eyes met. Jack had Robin’s silky dark hair, smooth skin, and pulpy mouth. Even the way Jack sat now, with his legs curled under him—I could almost picture what he’d look like in a mask and skimpy shorts.

“Well, go on.”

“Uh, sorry, yeah. So, anyway, I find Batman dead in the ruins of his car and pull him out of the wreckage. Then I rip his costume off and put in on.”

“It’s not burned or badly damaged by the explosion?”

“Jack, I was ten. I wasn’t thinking about the technicalities.”