by TJ Klune
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seth muttered.
“Uh-huh,” Jazz said. “Of course not. Why would anyone say exactly what they were thinking? That’s just madness.”
Seth’s face reddened further. “I, uh. I brought you something.”
Nick forgot about his anger for a moment. He liked presents. “You did?”
Seth shrugged. “It’s not much.”
“Give it to me,” Nick demanded. “Whatever it is, I must have it now so I can decide if it’s enough to forgive you for being a terrible best friend.”
Seth muttered something under his breath and reached down into his backpack. He pulled out brightly colored plastic and shoved it at Nick. “Here.”
Skwinkles Salsagheti.
Nick stared at it.
“It’s mango-flavored,” Seth said quietly.
It might have been the nicest thing anyone had ever given him. “Thanks. I’m still mad at you, but … thanks.”
“I know. I’ll explain though, okay? I promise. Give me a few days. I’ll tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Nick asked as he looked up at Seth.
“Everything,” Seth said.
“Everything?” Gibby said, breathless. “Seth, are you sure that’s—”
“Everything,” Seth said firmly, not looking away from Nick.
“Okay,” Nick said slowly. He cocked his head. “Is it bad?”
“I don’t … think so?”
“Is it a secret girlfriend and/or boyfriend?”
“No, Nick. It’s not.”
“Am I going to be perfectly satisfied with this explanation?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“Huh,” Nick said. “Now I’m intrigued. Well played, Seth. Well played.”
Seth looked relieved.
Gibby looked worried.
Jazz looked confused.
“Who died?” Owen asked, appearing out of nowhere as he always did. He sat next to Gibby, reaching over and stealing a limp piece of pizza.
Nick ignored him, moving his backpack out of the way so Seth could sit.
If their hands brushed together under the table more than once, well.
No one knew but them.
* * *
His AP History pop quiz was handed back to him, facedown.
That was never a good sign.
He lifted up the corner.
D+
The plus sign felt really unnecessary.
* * *
The house was empty when he got home.
He took a selfie in the living room and sent it to his dad.
Good, came the reply. Do your homework. Pasta in the fridge. See you in the morning.
* * *
“I’m trying,” he told his mother’s smiling face. Cars honked on the street below. He pulled the comforter up and over his shoulder. “I’m trying to be who he wants me to be.”
She didn’t say anything in return. She never did.
* * *
On Tuesday morning, he took his pill in front of his father.
There was cereal sitting on the counter.
Off brand, of course.
Leprachaun Marshmallow Ornaments.
His dad was trying.
So Nick did too.
He pulled his chair over to sit right next to him. They read the newspaper together while spooning marshmallows into their mouths. They didn’t talk much, but it seemed like a start.
It was okay. It was going to be okay.
* * *
“You look better today,” Jazz told him in the train station.
Nick shrugged. “Slept more.”
“That’s it?” Gibby asked, eyes narrowed. “Nothing else happened?”
“What else could there be?”
“You and Owen seemed rather chummy yesterday.”
“Chummy,” Nick repeated.
“Hey,” Seth said, coming up from behind them. He was wearing a bow tie with koala bears on it. Nick wanted to put him in his pocket and keep him forever.
“Hi,” Nick said, blushing and looking down at his beat-up Chucks.
“Hello,” Seth said, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Aw,” Jazz cooed.
“Oh my god,” Gibby muttered. “This is excruciating to watch.”
* * *
Owen wasn’t at lunch.
Nick thought about asking after him, but then Seth appeared, and he blushed again.
He also thought about trying to hold Seth’s hand under the table.
He couldn’t work up the courage.
Seth pressed his foot against Nick’s.
Nick thought he might burst into flames.
* * *
He took another selfie when he got home. This time, he scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue.
Cute, Dad wrote back. Though I’m probably the only one who thinks so.
Rude.
Do your homework, kid. There’s a casserole in the fridge from Cap’s wife.
Is it edible?
No. Make a sandwich instead.
* * *
He finished his homework early.
He thought about writing more of his fanfiction.
For the first time in a long time, he found himself not caring about it at all.
Would he turn into one of those evil people that abandoned their stories and offered no resolution even though people wanted nothing more?
God, he hoped not.
* * *
It was raining when he woke up Wednesday morning. The sky was dark through the window in his room. The clouds looked heavy.
The house was quiet.
He blinked up at the ceiling before turning his head to look at the clock on his desk.
His alarm was about to go off.
Why was the house silent?
He should have heard his dad moving down in the kitchen.
He grabbed his phone.
There was a text from his dad from a few hours before. It said something had come up, and he’d be working late. Eat breakfast. Go to the nurse at school for your pill. I’ll text you when I get home.
“I’m an eighties latchkey kid,” Nick muttered to no one. “Probably messed up for life because of it.”
* * *
Thunder rumbled as he ate a banana-and-peanut-butter sandwich.
He wondered if it was going to rain all day.
He locked the door behind him when he left the house, fumbling with his umbrella.
* * *
Gibby and Jazz were waiting for him on the bench in the train station.
“Did you hear?” Jazz asked as soon as he approached.
He frowned. “Hear what?”
“Shadow Star and Pyro Storm! Apparently, something big went down last night, but no one knows what. Like, hardcore. Explosions and destruction and everything.”
Nick looked at his phone, only to remember he didn’t have internet access. He groaned. “I’m grounded. I can’t look up anything. It’s practically medieval.”
“Here,” Jazz said, holding out her phone.
Gibby snatched it away before he could take it, saying, “We’re going to be late.” Jazz looked confused as Gibby handed her phone back.
Nick glared at her. “Seth’s not even here. We can’t leave him.”
Gibby sighed. “He’s not coming in today. He texted me this morning. Sick again.”
That … didn’t make sense. “He was fine yesterday. And he didn’t text me about it.” Nick pulled out his phone to make sure, but the last text had been from the night before, when Seth had written nite xx. Nick had stared at it for a long time, smiling wider than he had in a long time.
“I don’t know, Nicky,” Gibby told him. “I just know he’s not coming in today.”
“Is it bad?” he asked, texting Seth to ask if he was really sick.
“What?”
He shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Whatever went on with Shadow Star and Pyro Storm. Dad didn’t come
home this morning. Said he had to work late.”
Jazz hesitated. “Well, no one died. Or, that’s what they’re saying. All I know is that it was near Burke Tower.”
Nick sighed irritably. “We can ask Owen at lunch.”
* * *
Owen wasn’t at lunch.
Seth hadn’t texted back.
Neither had Dad.
Nick ate part of Jazz’s salad until he realized there was pineapple in it. He’d never been so offended in his life.
* * *
Later, Nick would look back and remember it was still raining when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. There was another rumble of thunder when he realized it wasn’t an incoming text as the vibration continued.
It was a phone call.
His blood ran cold as he pulled the phone out of his pocket, glancing down at the screen.
CAP
Nick’s breath hitched. He couldn’t move.
The vibration stopped.
ONE MISSED CALL, the screen read.
Maybe it was a mistake.
Maybe Cap had meant to call someone else.
He had almost convinced himself of it when the screen lit up again.
Cap was calling.
He stood. His chair scraped against the floor.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
“Nick?” Mrs. Auster asked. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer.
He headed for the door, phone clutched in his hand, ignoring his name being called, the other students whispering.
The hallway was almost empty. A janitor was at the other end, wiping the windows.
He connected the phone call and brought it up to his ear. He tried to speak, but all that came out was the smallest of noises.
“Nicky?” Cap asked.
Nick nodded, and then immediately felt ridiculous. “Yeah?” he managed to say.
“I need you to listen to me, okay? Listen to my words. Don’t speak until I finish, okay?”
No. No, no, no.
“He’s okay. I need you to hear that, above all else. He’s okay. He’s … he’s in the hospital, Nick, and I’m not gonna lie. It’s gonna look bad. These things often do. But he’s gonna get the best help, the best doctors. I’ll make sure of it. And I promise you, he’s going to be okay. I’m sending a patrol car to get you right now. I want you to wait for them in the office. They’ll bring you to me, and we’ll deal with this together. Do you understand?”
No. No, he didn’t. He didn’t understand any of this. It was getting hard to breathe, and at some point, he’d squeezed his eyes shut tight as if that would keep all of this away.
“Nick,” Cap said sharply. “Tell me you understand.”
“Yeah,” he croaked out. “I understand. Office. Patrol car. Will take me to you and—” He couldn’t finish the rest.
“I want you to hang up and go there now. I’m going to call them next, okay? They’ll be expecting you. Move, Nicky. Get to me.”
Nick moved.
* * *
A lady from the office met him halfway.
The principal was waiting in the front office. He put an arm around Nick’s shoulders, leading him toward another office. He sat him down in a comfortable chair. He spoke, but Nick barely heard him. He nodded where he thought he should.
A small paper cup was placed in his hand.
Someone tried to take his phone.
He jerked it away.
The water spilled.
Nick tried to apologize, but he couldn’t get the words out.
He was told it didn’t matter.
* * *
Someone brought his backpack.
Nick said thank you.
* * *
It felt like hours before a cop showed up.
Officer Rookie.
Nick tried to be brave.
Officer Rookie hugged him.
Nick cried.
Officer Rookie promised not to tell anyone.
* * *
He didn’t have to sit in the back of the patrol car this time.
“You don’t smell as bad,” Officer Rookie told him.
Nick nodded.
Officer Rookie sighed and closed the passenger door. He rounded the front of the cruiser.
Nick looked down at his phone.
Maybe …
He highlighted a name.
Connected the call.
It rang once.
Then:
“You’ve reached Seth’s voicemail. I’m probably busy. And nobody calls anyone anymore unless it’s an emergency. Send a text. Unless it’s an emergency.”
“I need you,” Nick said simply.
Officer Rookie got into the driver’s seat as Nick hung up the phone. “All right?”
Nick shook his head.
“Yeah. Stupid question. Sorry, Nick.”
* * *
Officer Rookie was good.
He was really good.
No matter what Nick asked, he refused to answer any question about what happened. All he would say was that Nick’s dad was going to be fine, he’s going to be fine, Nick, I promise.
“Cap told you what to say, didn’t he?”
Officer Rookie shrugged. “Told me you’d be persistent.” He glanced at Nick. “He’s right, though. Your dad is going to be okay. Kid like you? All the more reason to get better as quickly as he can. I doubt he’d want to leave you on your own for long. Probably end up burning the house down.”
Nick choked on a laugh, though his eyes were wet. “He’s pretty much the only thing standing between me and total annihilation.”
Officer Rookie chuckled. “I haven’t been around long, Nick. Still on probation. You know how it is.”
“I know, Officer Rookie.”
“But your dad. He … I don’t know everything that happened. Before. People talk, but I don’t listen. You know? Not my thing.”
“Yeah,” Nick said, staring out the window.
“All I care about is that I trust your dad to have my back anytime. Okay? No matter what. He’s a good man.”
Nick nodded, leaning his head against the cool glass. It was still raining.
“I don’t know him all that well, but I do know him enough to say he’s proud of you. I know you’ve been through some crap. The both of you. And I get it, probably better than you might think. But you can always tell how proud he is of you. Talks about you all the time.”
Nick balled his hands into fists in his lap.
“Thought you should know he thinks the world of you. You’re a good kid, Nick. Even if you did smell like my grandad’s cow pasture the first time I met you.”
“Please, Officer Rookie,” Nick muttered. “I kind of already have a boyfriend. And we talked about this. I’m only sixteen. It’s illegal.”
Officer Rookie sighed.
But when they reached an intersection that was backed up for almost an entire city block, he switched on the lights and siren and drove on the sidewalk, so Nick thought he wasn’t that bad.
* * *
Cap was waiting for him just inside the automatic doors of the hospital. Officer Rookie told him he’d go park and see him in a bit. Nick barely managed to shut the passenger door behind him before he took off toward the entrance.
Cap smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is he okay?” Nick demanded, out of breath.
Cap nodded. “He will be. Everyone’s optimistic. Got his bell rung. Knocked him out. Couple of broken ribs.” He hesitated. Then, “One punctured his lung, and it collapsed, but you know that’s something they can fix, Nick. Right? You know that?”
Oh, sure. Nick knew that. Nick knew all sorts of things when it came to injuries. Product of being a cop’s kid. In the mystical time known as Before, Dad would regale him with stories of grotesque injuries he’d seen on the job, much to Mom’s dismay. Traffic accidents, a guy who’d been wearing flip-flops when he’d had to lay down his motorcycle to avoid a collision and lost a bunch of his toes, a guy g
etting three of his teeth literally punched down his throat.
Then Before had become After, and it … well. Nothing had been the same After, but Dad didn’t talk as much about his job anymore. Not when he’d had to tell Nick that it’d been quick for her, that she hadn’t suffered, that she was there one moment then gone the next. Nick had struggled to understand the horror of it all, but he’d gotten there. Eventually.
So yeah. He knew what Cap meant, all right.
“He looks bad,” Cap said quietly. “That’s what you’re gonna think when you see him. It looks worse than it actually is. It’s the bruising, okay? The swelling. He’s got a breathing tube helping him out for now, but it’s only because of the lung. It’ll be out before you know it. When he wakes up, he’s going to be cranky, I can tell you that much. Busted some ribs myself years back. Hurts like a son of a bitch, and there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. It’ll heal. You still have to breathe, right?”
Nick nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.
Cap dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “He’s strong, Nick. So strong. And he’s got a lot to fight for. He’s not going anywhere. I can promise you that.”
Nick wanted to shove Cap’s hand away, because no one could promise that. No one could say they would stay forever. Maybe Cap didn’t understand, and it wasn’t his fault, but Nick couldn’t help but feel irrationally furious. She hadn’t made any promises, but Nick knew she’d have fought as hard as she could to stay with them. Yes, it’d been fast, it’d been over quick, she hadn’t suffered, but even though she hadn’t made a promise out loud, it shouldn’t have needed to be said.
“What happened?” Nick whispered.
“We can talk about that later, Nicky. You don’t need to—”
“Please.”
Cap sighed. “It was the Extraordinaries. I don’t know—something happened. I’ve never seen them like this. Shadow Star. Pyro Storm. We don’t know what set them off, but they were going after each other in ways they hadn’t before. There was a condemned apartment building. Down near Sixth and Torrance. Big transient population. It’s not the best place, Nick. And that building should have been torn down a long time ago, but it’s been delayed for years. Bureaucratic nonsense.”
