She Has a Costume, a Code Name, and Homework. Meet Nicada.

Everyone at school thinks Lisa walks the long way because she likes the exercise. What she actually does is cross the rooftops of Toronto.

For two years, sixteen-year-old Lisa Arianrhod has been Nicada, a self-appointed superhero with no superpowers, no gadgets, and no secret lab. Her mask is a black hoodie with the face sewn shut. What she has instead of powers is years of taekwondo and gymnastics, a very high pain tolerance, a few hundred Instagram followers, and two dads who would ground her into the next decade if they ever found out.

That is the setup of The Average Life of a Teenage Superhero, the new novel from Jordyn Frederick, arriving November 17. It's funny, heartfelt, and grounded in the messy realities of growing up, and it asks a question most superhero stories skip right past: what does it actually cost to decide you're the one who has to save the day?

Lisa's mission is personal. She reads about a Toronto businessman who has been arrested again and again and released every time, and she decides that somebody should do something. To her, it's simple. Everyone knows he's guilty, the system has failed, and someone has to step in. What begins as amateur vigilantism, the kind of thing that feels thrilling and a little ridiculous, quickly becomes something else. Stakeouts turn up nothing. Crawling through air vents takes far longer than it does in the movies. And the people she's up against hit back hard.

That's what makes the novel so engaging. It plays with one of the oldest ideas in popular culture, the masked hero who steps in where official justice falls short, and tests it against real life. Comic books and films have been telling that story for nearly a century, usually with grown-up heroes, rich heroes, or heroes with actual powers. Lisa has none of that. She has a homemade costume, a code name, a lot of determination, and a school schedule. The book never lets her off the hook: every choice she makes as Nicada has consequences, and some of her mistakes land on other people.

Lisa herself is the book's great strength. She is autistic, and Frederick writes her from the inside with real warmth and specificity: the way she looks at people's cheekbones instead of their eyes, the running commentary in her head about whether she has just broken a social rule, the sensory details that crowd in at exactly the wrong moment. Crucially, the novel isn't about her autism. She's autistic, and she's the hero, and the book lets those two facts sit side by side without fuss. Her family is just as vivid, from Bà making congee and teaching her Mandarin phrases in the kitchen to Dad making hot chocolate with exactly the right marshmallows during a homework session that is secretly a criminal investigation.

At the emotional center of the story is her best friend, Sugar, who is struggling with depression. This thread is one of the most honest parts of the book. Lisa can chase a criminal across the city, but she can't fix what her friend is going through, and the tension between those two kinds of "saving" gives the novel its heart. In one small, devastating scene, Sugar quietly finishes Lisa's homework for her, every question including the bonus, because it was easier than doing anything else. For teenage readers, the book treats mental health as part of everyday life rather than a plot twist, and it shows how hard, and how important, it is simply to show up for a friend. Being there, listening, and making sure a struggling friend gets support from trusted adults is its own kind of heroism, even without a cape.

As the pressure mounts, Lisa has to balance school, family, and friendship with the increasingly real consequences of being Nicada. The answers she arrives at aren't tidy, and that's exactly why they feel true.

Jordyn Frederick knows her audience well. She graduated from the University of Alberta with a Bachelor of Arts in 2022, after beginning her studies at Red Deer Polytechnic, and she has published short fiction and poetry along the way. Today she works as a school librarian in Alberta, where her job is encouraging a love of reading in her students, so she spends her days around exactly the readers this book is written for. It shows in Lisa's voice, which is sharp, funny, stubborn, and unmistakably teenage. When she isn't working or writing, Frederick is usually walking her dog, Novella, whose name alone tells you everything about her priorities.

The Average Life of a Teenage Superhero is a great pick for teen readers who love superhero stories but want something more real, for readers looking for an autistic heroine who simply gets to be the hero, and for parents and teachers who want a novel that opens conversations about friendship, responsibility, and mental health. It's a reminder that the hardest part of being a hero isn't the mask. It's everything you carry when you take it off.

The book deals with depression and suicidal thoughts. If you or a friend are struggling, in the U.S. and Canada you can call or text 988 at any time, and young people in Canada can also reach Kids Help Phone at 1-800-668-6868.

The Average Life of a Teenage Superhero by Jordyn Frederick arrives November 17, 2026, in paperback. Pre-order your copy now.