The Extraordinaries Page 15

  Seth choked out a laugh. “I’m not being abused. I don’t have a secret anyone.”

  Nick stared at him suspiciously. “You promise.”

  “Yeah. I promise.”

  “But there is something happening.”

  “Something is always happening, Nick. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you scream like you did when the cricket jumped at your face.”

  “Shut up,” Nick muttered. “It was attacking me. I did what I had to in order to defend myself.”

  “At least Jazz was here to spread it all over your pillow.”

  Nick groaned. “I’m going to have to do laundry because of her. I hate doing laundry.”

  “Later, though, huh? I feel like it’s been a while since we’ve been able to hang out, just the two of us. Wanna read comic books and be stupid for a little while?”

  Nick grinned at him. “That sounds awesome. We should go way back and read the Onslaught arc again. That’s one of my favorites.”

  Seth looked relieved for reasons Nick didn’t understand. “Sure, Nicky. Sounds good.”

  It wouldn’t be until much later that Nick would realize how neatly Seth had deflected him.

  * * *

  “It’s been a while since Seth was over,” Dad said that night when it was just the two of them. Cap had said he needed to get home to the missus, and Seth was going to have dinner with his aunt and uncle. He’d looked like he was going to say something else while standing on Nick’s porch, but then he’d shaken his head, smiled, and said he’d text Nick later. Nick watched him walk down the sidewalk until he couldn’t see him anymore. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah,” Nick said, walking to the couch where his father sat. Dad had his socked feet propped up on the old coffee table. He looked relaxed, something Nick thought he needed to do more. “At least, I think so.”

  Dad arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Nick thought for a moment. Then, “It feels like he’s keeping something from me. I don’t know. I thought maybe he was dating someone, but he says he’s not.”

  Dad snorted. “Kid, I can pretty much guarantee that he’s not dating anyone else.”

  “Why?”

  “I think he’s got everything he needs already. He’s just … biding his time, I guess. Waiting for things to become clear.”

  “What things?”

  “Yeah. He’s definitely waiting, all right.”

  Nick scowled. “Why is everyone always speaking in code around me?”

  “I’m allowed to because I’m an adult and also your father. It’s my job to be maddeningly vague.”

  “Well, you’re doing a good job at it.”

  “Thanks, kid.”

  Nick hesitated. “The dad stuff too.”

  Dad smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself. Wanna watch a dumb movie where things blow up in slow motion? I’ll even make some popcorn, if you want.”

  Nick really wanted to get upstairs and start planning Phase Two of becoming an Extraordinary, but he thought maybe that could wait. There was an empty space on the couch next to his dad, and things blowing up in slow motion sounded pretty good. “I’ll go put on some sweats and meet you here with the popcorn in five minutes. But god help you if there’s butter or salt on it. You’re not getting any younger.”

  Dad rolled his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “Someone in this house has to.”

  “Deal. Get your butt moving, Nicky. We’ve got big plans.”

  Nick moved his butt.

  Before he left his room to head back downstairs, he reached over and touched his mother’s smile. “We’re okay,” he told her. “Today, we’re okay.”

  * * *

  And if that night, while lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, Nick thought about the veins in Seth’s arms, well.

  That was nobody else’s business.

  * * *

  Monday mornings were bad.

  Monday mornings when his dad had to work late were even worse.

  But Monday mornings when his dad had to work late and Nick managed to sleep through his alarm?

  All in all, it was not the greatest start to the second week of school.

  “Dammit,” he grumbled, trying to shove his foot into one of his Chucks while attempting to descend the stairs. There was a moment when Nick was sure he was about to tumble head over heels, but he managed to catch himself on the banister.

  Because the only thing that would have made this Monday even more terrible would be if he’d fallen and broken his neck.

  His phone beeped as he shouldered his bag and headed out the door, locking it quickly behind him. He pulled it out to see messages from Seth and Gibby, asking where he was. He apologized profusely to a woman pushing a stroller as he bumped into her while he typed a response, telling them to go on without him. He was already going to be late, and he didn’t want them to run the risk of getting in trouble too. If he hurried, it shouldn’t be too bad, but there was no way he was going to get there before the final bell rang. There was also an alert on his phone with a headline that new information had come in about a scuffle between Pyro Storm and Shadow Star in the early morning hours of Saturday, but Nick didn’t have time to read it, no matter how much he wanted to. He saved the link for later.

  For once, the trains were running almost on schedule, which helped, but by the time he made it to Franklin Street, he was fifteen minutes late. He thought about skipping first period entirely, but that would mean a phone call would be made, and Dad had learned rather quickly to have the calls sent to his cell phone and not the home phone where Nick could intercept any messages, especially if he switched the ringer off. It had been one of those things they’d talked about over the summer, one of the things Nick had promised he would be better about.

  He decided to bite the bullet and stumble into class late. Maybe his teacher would believe the excuse that there’d been a fire on his train or a body on the tracks. It happened all the time, right?

  The school was in sight. He could do this.

  He was about to head for the steps when a limousine pulled up in front of the school, black and sleek, the chrome bumper glinting. Nick wondered who the hell had the kind of money that they needed to take a limo to school. Unless there was some important speaker today, like the mayor.

  As soon as the limo came to a stop, one of the rear doors flew open, and Owen Burke stepped out, a stormy look on his face, mouth twisted in a snarl. Nick had never seen Owen look so furious before.

  “You stop right there,” another voice snapped from the car, and for a moment, Nick thought Owen would keep on walking.

  He didn’t.

  His hand tightened on the strap of his backpack, and his scowl deepened.

  A man climbed out of the limo. He was immaculately dressed, his expensive suit obviously tailored, his dress shoes probably costing more than Nick’s entire wardrobe. He wore sunglasses, though it was mostly cloudy. His silver hair was styled short and tight against his head, and he cut an imposing figure.

  Nick had only met Simon Burke once before. He’d gone to the Burke house (house being a bit of a misnomer—Nick didn’t think any dwelling with eight bathrooms and a cleaning staff of six could qualify as just a house) toward the beginning of the Great Romance of Nick and Owen, unsure if he should take off his shoes. Not that he even wanted to do that because he was pretty sure one of his socks had a hole in it.

  Nick had felt wholly out of place standing on marble floors, walls decorated with art that probably sold for millions but looked as if it had been painted by a particularly furious color-blind two-year-old. It was made worse when a man in a suit had taken Nick’s bag and coat without a word, hanging them in a closet that looked as if it were bigger than the top floor of Nick’s house.

  Owen had obviously not been expecting his father to be home, and when he’d come into the foyer, cell phone firmly attached to his ear, brows furrowed angrily, he’d barely given his son a glance. Nick had wished he
could just sink into the floor, but seeing as how he hadn’t figured out how to do that yet, he had stood as still as he could. Which meant tapping his fingers against his side and bouncing on his heels.

  It looked as if they were going to ignore each other until Simon Burke had turned toward his son and said, “I won’t be home until late. Your mother has a charity … something, so you’re on your own. Sophie’s in the kitchen. She’ll—” And then he’d caught sight of Nick.

  Nick knew he didn’t make the best first impressions. He was too twitchy, too awkward, and it didn’t help that when he tried to smile while stressed, he looked as if he were about to be ill. There was nothing he could do about that, no matter how hard he tried. So, when Mr. Burke turned back to his son and asked, “Who’s your little friend?” Nick said, “How do you do, your lordship.”

  Owen groaned.

  Mr. Burke turned slowly to Nick again. “Beg pardon?”

  Nick winced. “Um. Sorry. I don’t know what to call you. I’ve never been in a house this big before, and I’m worried that I’ll break something. Not that I plan on it. Your priceless heirlooms are safe with me.”

  “Right,” Mr. Burke said, and the expression on his face looked as if he were speaking with an increasingly quarrelsome sloth. “See that you don’t. I’d hate to have to sue your parents. I’m sure they wouldn’t be pleased to have to deplete the meager account they call a college fund for something so … avoidable.”

  “Right,” Nick said hastily. “Agreed.”

  “You can leave,” Owen said, sounding irritated. “We’re not going to do anything.”

  “I highly doubt that,” Mr. Burke said. “At least it’s a guy this time. I won’t have to worry about any unwanted … complications.” And with that, he’d turned toward the door, barking into his phone.

  “Complications?” Nick asked after the door had closed again.

  “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go up to my room.”

  That was Nick’s only interaction with Simon Burke of Burke Tower and Burke Pharmaceuticals and Burke Fill-in-the-Blank.

  He wasn’t a fan, though he could totally see where Owen had gotten his … Owen-ness. Both were cool and aloof and more than a little scary. They were also both hot, though Nick would never admit that out loud. He wondered if fear boners were going to be a thing for him for the rest of his life. He hoped not.

  But seeing Simon Burke again, here, now, in front of his school, snapping at his son, certainly didn’t do much to raise Nick’s opinion about him. He thought about heading to class and trying to get to his seat before he could get into more trouble, but that would mean passing in front of Owen and his dad, and he didn’t want their attention on him.

  So he waited.

  Owen turned toward his father. “What do you want?”

  “What I want is for you to lose the attitude,” his father said angrily. “You think this is a game? I don’t know where you get off believing you have the run of the household, but you better course-correct that line of thought right now. Coming and going at all hours of the night like you’re not just a child is—”

  “What do you care?” Owen retorted. “It’s not like you’re ever there to begin with. What does it matter if I am?”

  Something fierce crossed Mr. Burke’s face. “You watch your tongue, Owen. It would be very easy to take everything away from you. I made you. You would do well to remember that. Especially since I could just as easily unmake you. Everything I’ve given you, gone in a flash. And where would you be, then?”

  “You wouldn’t,” Owen said, voice barely above a whisper. “You need me.”

  Mr. Burke scoffed. “Try me. I promise you won’t like what I do. Know your place. Don’t make me remind you of it. I have plans for Nova City, and I won’t see them derailed. It’s the principle of causation. Everything you do affects me. Think, Owen, before you act. Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” Owen said bitterly.

  “Good.” He looked over his son’s shoulder up at the school, his mouth twisting in disdain. “I don’t know why you insist on this place. There’s a private school much closer to home that would do more for someone of your station.”

  “I like it here.”

  Mr. Burke nodded slowly. “Good to know. Because this too can be taken away. Remember that.”

  Owen looked like he was going to argue more, but instead, he deflated. “And my medicine? I need it.”

  “Not right now,” Mr. Burke said. “You’ve had enough for the time being. Go. You’ve already made me late as it is.”

  With that, he climbed back into the limo, slamming the door behind him. A moment later, the limo pulled out into traffic.

  Owen watched it disappear.

  Nick waited.

  And then Owen turned and looked directly at Nick.

  Dammit. He thought he’d been so careful not hiding behind anything and staring at the two of them.

  “Enjoy the show?” Owen asked, though his tone wasn’t as harsh as it’d been with his father.

  Nick sputtered. “I didn’t—I wasn’t trying—man, what happened to your face?”

  There was a splotchy bruise on Owen’s jaw, spreading up toward his right ear. Owen reached up and pressed into it, hissing slightly and pulling his hand away, leaving the skin white until it turned back to purple. “Got punched.”

  “Who punched you?”

  Owen smirked at him. “Careful, Nicky. You’re beginning to sound like you care, and we can’t have that, can we? I already broke your heart once. Don’t think we need to do it again.”

  Nick scowled at him. “You didn’t break my heart. I was barely invested. It was a fling.”

  Owen reached up and patted Nick’s cheek. “Sure it was. I know I’m hard to get over. Don’t you worry your pretty little face over me. You should see the other guy.”

  “Does this have anything to do with why you didn’t come to my house and help us with my plan?”

  Owen shrugged. “That, and your plan sounded terrible. You want to get it right, you come talk to me. Otherwise, you can keep on doing what you’re doing.”

  “I can do it by myself.”

  Owen studied him, a strange look on his face. Nick felt like squirming. “I bet you can. We’ll see, won’t we? Any chance you wanna ditch the rest of the day? I don’t know that I want to be here right now. Whaddya say? For old time’s sake.”

  Nick shook his head. “I can’t. I’m already late, and I promised my dad that—”

  “Right, right. Dear ol’ Dad. You’re supposed to be a good boy this year, aren’t you? Well, far be it from me to aid in the corruption of Nicholas Bell even more than I already have. Run along, Nicky. Go be a good boy. Time waits for no blah, blah, blah.”

  Nick started to turn toward doors of the school, but then he hesitated. “What about you?”

  Owen looked surprised, and his face softened slightly. Gone was the cocky swagger he wore like a shield. This unmasking was something Nick had only seen a handful of times before, mostly when it was just the two of them, hands roaming to dangerous territories, lips chapped and swollen, and Nick could have sworn that Owen was almost fond of him. “You worried about me, Nicky?”

  “I worry about all my friends.”

  “Yeah. You do, don’t you? I’m fine. Just need a me day, I think. Some self-care.” Owen reached up and squeezed the back of Nick’s neck. And then the mask slid firmly back in place, a cocky twist to his lips. “Get inside, Nicky. Before I think you’re waiting for me to take you away from this place.”

  With that, Owen spun on his heels, whistling brightly as he headed down the sidewalk.

  Without thinking, Nick called after him, “What medicine was your dad supposed to give you?”

  Owen didn’t look back.

  Nick watched as he disappeared into Nova City.

  * * *

  There was a text from his dad as he headed toward the cafeteria. Got an email from the school. You late today?

  Nick groaned. Of
course he already got told on. yeah alarm didn’t go off my bad only missed 20 mins of 1st period

  A moment later: We talked about this Nick.

  yeah just an accident sorry won’t happen again

  See that it doesn’t. Love you.

  u too

  His dad was disappointed. Nick could tell even through those few short words, and he hated it. Sure, he’d been up late the night before researching what his next steps should be on his journey to become an Extraordinary, but still. It wasn’t going to be like last year. Dad had tried to put it all on Owen in the end, telling him that Owen was a bad influence, but Nick hadn’t let him. Nick had made his own decisions, however bad they might have been. Owen had been more than a willing participant, but it wasn’t like he’d pressured Nick into anything.

  Dad had called earlier today, apologizing for waking him, telling him he was going to be late, and he’d sounded tired. He’d been almost short with Nick, telling him to go back to sleep before hanging up. He hadn’t said why he was going to be late, if it was overtime or if it was because something had happened that he couldn’t get away from. The life of a cop was unpredictable, especially when it came to the hours. If something happened right before they got off shift, they had to stay until they could be relieved.

  It hadn’t helped that Dad had been demoted. Nick knew what that meant. Going from detective back to beat cop was a harsh pay cut along with the bruised ego. There’d been insurance money and a payout from the Nova City Victims’ Fund for what happened in the After, but Dad put all that money away for Nick, telling him it was for a future he deserved.

  His dad worked hard. That much was clear.

  So of course Nick wanted to become an Extraordinary. Yes, it would mean getting to team up with Shadow Star and most likely falling in love and having a superhero-themed wedding with cake that had yellow frosting, but it also meant he could potentially keep the city safer.

  And doing that meant his dad would be safer.

  He wouldn’t have to worry as much, and Cap would see just how good of a cop Dad was and make him detective again, something his dad had loved with everything he had.