Flash Fire by T.J. Klune

17

They didn’t talk about Simon Burke.

That was something Nick would remember, despite all that would happen this night.

They didn’t talk about Simon Burke. They didn’t talk about Owen Burke. They didn’t talk about superpowers or fanfiction. They didn’t talk about potential Extraordinary names for Nick. They didn’t talk about Miss Conduct or TK or anyone else out in the world who could do things that most only dreamed about. They didn’t talk about Lighthouse or Team Pyro Storm or any battles on bridges. No one mentioned Jenny Bell or Guardian or dads who made deals with the devil in order to keep their children safe. There was no discussion about pills that gave people powers or pills that took powers away. No one mentioned ADHD or flying cups or secret lairs hidden behind pocket doors.

For eighty-seven minutes, Nick and Seth and Jazz and Gibby did what most teenagers did on prom night: dressed up in their best and ate at a restaurant whose menu was not laminated and instead was the size of a cell phone, with tiny print listing things that no one aside from Jazz could pronounce and didn’t have any prices. They made fun of Seth when he decided he was going to order something called Wagyu bolognese that cost eighty bucks and ended up tasting like Hamburger Helper.

They gagged when Jazz ate oysters, the meat sliding from the shell into her mouth, juice dripping down her chin.

They grinned when Nick drank twenty-dollar water only to find out it tasted exactly like water from the tap.

They applauded when Gibby decided that life was too short and ordered calamari, complete with suckers still attached to the fried, rubbery tentacles. She ate them all, and by the end announced that they were her favorite food.

They blushed (at least, Nick and Seth did) when a man with a violin appeared at their table, the music sweet and romantic, Seth reaching under the table and taking Nick’s hand in his, squeezing tightly, his eyes glittering in the low light as he looked at Nick.

And dessert! They ordered dessert—chocolate something—that ended up being too rich. They ate all of it anyway, spoons scraping against the plate on the table between them. Jazz fed Gibby, getting chocolate on her nose and cheek. Gibby didn’t seem to mind, even if she grumbled about it.

And through it all, they just … existed. Seth and Jazz and Nick listened as Gibby plotted out her future, the plans still tenuous but her excitement palpable as she waved her hands. They listened as Jazz gushed about the speech Gibby was writing when she would take the stage as valedictorian, though no manner of begging would make Gibby recite what she’d written so far. Nick watched her roll her eyes at his insistence and laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

As the last of the dishes were taken away, Seth raised his glass of sparkling cider and said, “A toast.”

The others raised their own glasses, watching, waiting.

He said, “I don’t know where I’d be without all of you. For the longest time, I thought I had to do this alone. That it’d be easier. I was wrong. The only reason I’ve gotten as far as I have is because of you. Thank you for being there for me. For being there for each other. We may not be popular or know what the hell we’re doing, but as long as we’re together, I know we’re gonna be all right.”

“Damn right we will,” Gibby said. “And even though I’ll be at a different school next year, I’m not going to let you idiots get in trouble without me. Yeah, I’ll be in college and therefore much more mature, but I promise I’ll still make time for my friends.”

“Then we’ll graduate too,” Jazz said. “And we’ll follow Gibby and get an apartment in the city where we’ll live together and protect people from other people making stupid decisions, like trying to take over Nova City by murdering all of us horribly.”

They laughed and then looked to Nick.

Nick, who was so full of love for each and every one of them, so much so that the words were stuck. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head. Clearing his throat, he said, “Paths diverge. People change. There may come a day when we go off in different directions, but today isn’t that day. And I don’t want to be anywhere else but right here, with you.”

They clinked their glasses together, each of them drinking deeply.

Their waiter appeared out of nowhere, eyeing Nick’s suit with what could either be disdain or absolute jealousy. Nick preferred to think it was the latter. The waiter smiled at them before setting down a small black folder on the table. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, taking away their discarded plates and silverware.

Nick made to grab the folder, only to have it plucked out of his hands by Jazz. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s on me.”

“Oh, thank god,” Nick said. “I mean, are you sure?”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of having parents who are rich if you don’t take advantage of it?” She paused, considering. “Besides, we still have an entire night ahead of us, and I won’t have that ruined by you overreacting if you saw how much the bill is.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Gibby said, grabbing the folder and looking down at it as she opened it up. She then snapped it closed immediately and handed it back to Jazz. “Okay, it was that bad. What the f—”

Jazz sniffed daintily. “No need for that kind of language.”

“Now I want to see,” Seth said. He took the folder from Jazz, and Nick looked over his shoulder. When he found the total at the bottom of the receipt, the blood drained from his face.

Jazz sighed. “See? That’s why I said to let me handle it.”

“Ireland is going to straight-up murder us,” Nick said, getting riled up. “They’re going to come here with their storied history and their elegant way of speaking and kill us all until there’s nothing left but bone and gristle, and we’ll deserve it.”

He startled when Seth burst out laughing. He looked over to see Seth wrapping his arms around his stomach, tears leaking from his eyes as he laughed. Nick’s diatribe melted almost immediately at the sight of Seth Gray laughing, laughing, laughing, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe this was his superpower. Forget the ADHD or the telekinesis, at least for a moment. Maybe Nick’s superpower all along had been his ability to make Seth laugh like nothing else mattered. Not a bad power to have, in the long run. And one most people didn’t possess.

They stood in front of the restaurant, bundled up against the cold as they waited for the car to arrive. People moved around them, Gibby standing behind Jazz, her chin hooked over Jazz’s shoulder. Nick and Seth were side by side, their hands joined between them. They spoke of nothing in particular, Nick closing his eyes and letting the sounds of his friends and the city wash over him.

Something tickled the back of his mind, a light caress from ghostly fingers, familiar and sweet. He opened his eyes, brow furrowed. He looked around. No one was there. He looked up at the buildings that rose above them. Nothing.

“Nick.”

He lowered his head. Gibby and Jazz were walking toward a white SUV that had pulled up to the curb. Seth was looking at him, a question on his face. “What’s up?”

Nick forced a smile. “Nothing. I thought—” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Got lost in my own head.”

Seth nodded slowly. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Jazz, Gibby, move your butts over because we’re both getting in the back seat with you.”

As Seth climbed into the SUV, Nick looked around once more.

Nothing.

He followed his friends into the SUV.

Centennial High had been transformed. It was still obviously just the cafeteria where they ate lunch every day, but it looked as if it’d been given a makeover involving an entire cadre of dead magicians.

A banner above the entrance to the cafeteria announced STARRY NIGHTS! WISH UPON THE STARS AND ALL YOUR DREAMS WILL COME TRUE! Nick thought it was a little over the top, but then he’d never been on a prom committee. It absolutely did not help that underneath those words were smaller words that read ALSO FIERY NIGHTS, JUST IN CASE PYRO STORM SHOWS UP!

Nick glared at the banner as they handed their tickets over to a particularly disgruntled woman who looked like teenage happiness was the bane of her existence. “No drinking,” she told them. “No drugs. No dirty dancing. No fornicating. Keep it clean, keep it safe.”

“Darn,” Nick said. “What am I going to do with all these tabs of acid that I’m obviously joking about, so please stop rising from your chair like you’re going to kick me out. Oh my god, I was joking. I don’t even know where to get acid.”

The woman sat back down, glaring at Nick. “No drugs!”

“He was kidding,” Seth said hastily. “He doesn’t do drugs.”

“Only the legal kind,” Nick promised her. “That were prescribed by a doctor not associated with Burke Pharmaceuticals. I need them because of my brain.”

“Stop. Talking,” Gibby growled. “If you get us kicked out before we even go in, I’m going to let Jazz stab you with one of her heels.”

“Go through security,” the woman barked, waving them away. “No funny business!”

“Some people can’t take a joke,” Nick mumbled as they got in the line that led toward the cafeteria. At the front of the line were three teachers going through purses and pockets. “Remember when we could go to school without worrying about people wanting to kill us?”

“No,” Jazz said. “Because I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have to walk through metal detectors in order to get to class.”

“Or people not liking the color of my skin,” Gibby said.

When it was finally their turn, Nick didn’t argue as he was patted down (though he did snap to be careful with his suit), watching as Jazz’s purse was riffled through.

The usual lunch tables had been removed, replaced by round tables covered in tablecloths that shimmered under the strings of lights that had been stretched all around the cafeteria. Atop the tables sat bunches of fake white flowers, each of their petals covered in sequins not unlike those on Nick’s suit. The tables lined one half of the room, the other half left open as a dance floor, though only a few were dancing so far, the DJ against the wall trying to hype everyone up to no avail. The ceiling had been covered with glow-in-the-dark stars, an entire galaxy complete with a wombat constellation, though it looked diseased and was missing a limb. Someone had apparently thought a fog machine was a good idea and white smoke billowed across the floor, swirling as people moved through it.

Waiters in snappy dress clothes and bow ties moved between the tables, carrying trays of sparkling water and little sandwiches that Nick thought were probably made in the cafeteria.

The heating system was apparently on full blast, and Nick wiped sweat from his brow as Seth led them toward an empty table near the back, pulling a chair out for Jazz and then one for Gibby, who snorted but didn’t say anything as she sat down next to Jazz.

Not to be outdone, Nick did the same for Seth, who grinned at him before taking a seat. As Nick sat down, he looked around the cafeteria, trying to see where their parents were so they could actively avoid them at all costs. It was crowded, the sounds of voices and terrible dance music bouncing off the walls around them. Nick thought he saw Bob and Martha against the far wall, but there were too many people to be sure. He was distracted by one of the waiters who moved between the tables, expertly carrying a tray. The man was slim and moved with the grace of a dancer. Nick couldn’t quite make out his face in the low light. He didn’t know why, but the man seemed familiar somehow.

“What is it?” Seth whispered to him, bringing his attention back to the table.

“Thought I saw someone I knew,” Nick said. “One of the waiters.”

Seth turned to look out at the crowd. “Who did you think he was?”

Nick shrugged. “Don’t know. Probably seeing things. No big deal.”

“It better not be,” Jazz said, “because I have plans tonight. First, I’m going to dance with Gibby—Seth, you’ll be with Nick. Then we’re going to switch partners and dance with each other. I want at least two dances with the both of you. Gibby, you get more because you’re my girlfriend and I want to get freaky.”

“Your mom and dad are here,” Nick reminded her.

Jazz scoffed. “That’s not my problem. If they didn’t want to see it, then they shouldn’t have come here.”

“But”—Nick sputtered—“but—your virtue.”

“Took care of that a long time ago,” Gibby said, leaning back in her chair and grinning smugly. “Broke it into pieces without a twinge of regret.”

“Speaking of regret,” Nick mumbled. “I’m having a few of those right now for even asking.”

“As you should,” Jazz said. “Most everyone here is straight. It’s our responsibility as the token queer kids to make sure everyone is slightly uncomfortable to the point where they’ll need to have an honest conversation with themselves about their biases.”

They stared at her.

“What?” she asked. “Do I have something on my face?” She reached into her purse, pulled out a compact, and snapped it open. She pursed her lips at her reflection. “Nope. I look amazing, as expected.” She put the compact back in her purse. “What about the two of you?”

“What about us?” Seth asked.

Jazz sighed as if she couldn’t deal with the stupidity of boys. “Are you two going to … you know.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Confused, Nick asked, “Going to what?”

Gibby turned her face toward the ceiling. “It’s like we’re dealing with puppies. Sweet, dumb little puppies.”

“Nick,” Jazz said. “We’ve talked about this. Tonight is a magical night. Perhaps you and Seth will be slow dancing, and then he’ll lean closer, and you’ll lean closer and whisper—”

“Oh my god,” Nick said loudly. “Are you talking about the sex?”

The occupants of the tables closest to them turned and looked at them.

Seth waved at them. “Hey. Having a good night? Us too. Obviously.”

Panicking, Nick blurted, “My dad made a dad joke when he gave me condoms and I don’t know how to feel about that. Like, mad? But also, a little proud? Because it shows the measure of a person to commit to a bit that hard. Also, that was a pun because of hard and sex and—”

“Your dad gave you condoms?” Seth said, face going pale. “Does he know what they’re for?”

“Oof,” Gibby said. “I really don’t want to be here for this conversation.”

“Of course he does,” Nick said. “They’re for making my life a living hell, just so he can get his kicks. They’re in my pocket right now. I’ll show you.”

Seth grabbed his arm as Nick started to dig through his pocket. “Don’t. We believe you. You don’t need to show us condoms—and notice I’m not even asking why you have them.”

“That’s what I said. We’re both virgins. You’re not going to give me HPV, and even if you did, roughly eighty percent of sexually active people have it, and we could seek treatment togeth—”

Seth sighed. “Not what I meant, Nicky.”

“Yeah,” Gibby said. “I don’t want to leave anymore. This is fine.” She leaned forward, chin resting on her hands as she stared at Nick. “Keep going, Nicky. Did he give you lube too? Because you’re not going to get too far without—”

“Just because you can make your own doesn’t mean you need to relish in my discomfort,” Nick snapped. Then, “Wow. I wish I hadn’t said that.”

Gibby squinted at him. “You really don’t know anything about female anatomy, do you?”

“Of course not! I’m a gay man! Why the hell would I need to know about how you can—mmph!”

“Nope,” Seth said, covering Nick’s mouth with his hand. “Not today, not ever. Gibby, stop it. You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Try and prove it, Gray,” Gibby said, her smile growing entirely too evil for Nick’s liking.

“Dancing!” Jazz said shrilly. “There’s going to be dancing, and whatever happens after will be between two consenting people, or it doesn’t need to happen at all.”

“I don’t know about that,” Gibby said gleefully. “Nick brought a condom, after all.”

“I know how to make dental dams!” Nick announced rather hysterically. “My dad taught me! He—”

“—is coming over here!” Seth hissed, blood draining from his face. “Please stop talking about condoms and dental dams before he hears you!”

Nick whirled around in time to see Dad pushing his way through the crowd. When he saw Nick looking at him, he waved. “Nick! Hey, Nick! It’s me, your dad! Your father! The man who helped create you!”

“Oh my god,” Nick moaned, turning back around and slumping in his chair as if that would help. “My life is over.”

“Nah,” Gibby said. “It’s not like you had much of a life to begin with.”

“Just you wait,” Nick warned her. “You and Jazz are going to be getting freaky and your parents will be right there, watching your lesbian mating dance. They’ll probably even be taking pictures.”

Gibby made a face. “Not cool, Nicky.”

Before Nick could retort, Dad appeared at the table, looking far too pleased with himself. “Hey, didn’t you hear me shouting for you? You looked right at me. Wasn’t sure if you heard me or not.”

“I heard you,” Nick muttered. “Everyone heard you.”

“Good,” Dad said, patting Nick on the shoulder. “Then my job here is done.”

“Which means you can probably leave, right?” Nick asked hopefully. “No need to stay any longer. You’re old, which means you need sleep. Why don’t you head on home and take the rest of the night off.”

“Sorry, kid,” Dad said. “I take this chaperone thing very seriously. We even got a ten-minute speech about what to watch out for and everything. Can’t walk away from that.” He plucked a glass from the tray of a passing waiter, raising it to his nose and sniffing. “Good. Hasn’t been spiked, as far as I can tell. Don’t take a drink and then leave it unattended. That’s how they’ll get you. Seth, you look like you’re about to pass out. You all right?”

“Dad.”

“Nick,” Dad said in the same tone. “Yeah, yeah. I wanted to say hi. You won’t even see me for the rest of the night.” He smiled at Seth. “But I’ll be seeing you. You can bet on that.” He laughed as he ruffled Nick’s hair before disappearing back into the crowd.

“He knows,” Seth moaned. “He knows about the condoms.”

“Well, yeah,” Gibby said. “He’s the one who gave them to Nick—which, I mean, I get the whole safe sex thing, but that feels like a boundary that shouldn’t have been crossed. You guys have a weird relationship. Full offense.”

“He’s trying,” Nick said as he deflated. “Maybe a little too hard. He thinks he needs to make up for all the crap we’ve been through.”

“Is it working?” Jazz asked.

Nick wasn’t sure. He hoped so, but he wasn’t there yet. “I don’t know.” He looked at Gibby and Jazz. “How’re things going with your parents?”

“Nice deflection, Nicky,” Jazz said. She glanced at Gibby. “It’s going. My parents are still a little—I don’t know—starstruck, I guess, about what Seth can do.”

“Mine are still pissed,” Gibby admitted. “I think the support group helped a little, though. Dad said that Nick’s father seemed to be listening to him and Mom. He’s angry, but—”

“Can you blame him?” Nick asked. “Because I can’t.”

Gibby arched an eyebrow. “You’ve seemed to have done an about-face with the whole cop thing.”

Nick picked at the tablecloth as he muttered, “Better late than never.” He sighed. “No, that’s not good enough. It shouldn’t have taken this long. I have, like, years of hero worship to dismantle and work through that has nothing to do with Extraordinaries. I thought … I thought it was black and white, you know? Good guys, bad guys, a divide between them. I’m trying to figure out how to handle what happens when the good guys are the bad guys. I’m getting there, but it’s harder than I expected it to be.” He looked up at Gibby. “He’s my dad, you know? It’s confusing. I’m angry with him, but I also want to believe that he can still make things right.”

“I hope so, Nicky,” Gibby said quietly.

“We’ll figure it out,” Seth told them. “We have to, because it’s the only way we’ll make it through this.”

“And it’ll still be waiting for us tomorrow,” Jazz said. “Tonight is about us.” A new song began to play, some pop mess that grated on Nick’s ears. Jazz, however, lit up, grabbing Gibby’s hand and rising from her chair. “I love this song! We’re going to go dance. Coming?”

Seth said, “We’ll be there in a minute. I want to talk to Nick.”

Jazz nodded, pulling Gibby toward the dance floor. Nick and Seth watched as Jazz threw her hands around Gibby’s neck, pulling her close and rolling her hips expertly. Gibby bent forward, pressing her forehead against Jazz’s, moving back and forth with the beat.

“I can’t dance like that,” Nick told Seth. “I think the bones in my hips are fused together, so—keep that in mind.”

“Condoms,” Seth blurted.

Nick turned slowly to look at him. “Uh—yes? What about them?”

Seth fidgeted in his chair. “Do … do you want to use them?”

Oh. Oh. Crap. Not where Nick thought this was going to go. And since Seth looked like he was borderline panicking, it was up to Nick to remain calm and levelheaded. Which is why he said (like a goddamn boss), “You want some of the Nick Experience?”

Seth gaped at him.

Nick winced. “That sounded a lot better in my head.”

“Did it?” Seth asked. “Did it really?”

Nick took a deep breath, letting it out slow. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

That didn’t seem to placate Seth in the slightest, especially since he began to pop his knuckles, something he only did when he was nervous. “What do you want?”

“I … don’t know? Which might be an answer in and of itself.” Nick stopped Seth from attempting to break his own hands. “Hey. Look at me.”

Seth did, eyes wide.

Nick grinned at him. “We don’t have to do anything we’re not ready for. And even if one of us is ready, that doesn’t mean the other has to be. This isn’t a one-time thing. We’ve got the rest of our lives to figure it all out, so why worry about it now?”

“The rest of our lives,” Seth repeated.

Nick shrugged. “Sure. So long as we don’t wait until we’re both thirty. I want to do things before then. Like, together.”

“No, that’s not—you really think we’ll be together for the rest of our lives?”

Nick squinted at him. “Yes? Is that—isn’t that what you want?” Uh-oh. “Or maybe you don’t want that, and we’re about to break up because you think you need to push me away to keep me safe, and I swear to god, Seth, if that’s what this is, I’m going to complain so much, you’ll regret ever thinking something so dumb. Don’t you dare do—”

Seth laughed, a low sound that Nick felt down to his bones. Nick was in awe of him—the way the corners of his eyes crinkled, the way his teeth flashed, smile wide. “You’re an idiot. I’m not going to break up with you.” His smile faded slightly. “We’ve never—we’ve never really talked about what comes next.”

Nick frowned. “Yeah, we have. All the time. Remember? We’re going to go to school together, and then I’ll open up my private investigation agency–slash-bakery, and you’ll write true crime books or fiction or be a lawyer who makes sure people listen to voices they’ve dismissed for so long.”

“You remember that,” Seth whispered.

“Of course I do,” Nick said. “Just because things have changed for the both of us doesn’t mean we still can’t have that. And honestly, I don’t care what we do or where we go, as long as I’m with you.”

“You mean it?”

Nick nodded. “We’re in this together, Seth. And I’m not talking about the Extraordinaries thing. We’re in this life together because we choose to be. You and me, we’re a team. We have been ever since I found you on the swings. I need you to be by my side to make sure I don’t do anything stupid that either gets me arrested or crushed by a Buick flung at me by a stupid villain.”

“Those are two very different things.”

“Figure I should cover all my bases,” Nick said. He squeezed Seth’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is that I go where you go. And until you tell me otherwise, that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

“I won’t,” Seth said, cheeks reddening. “Tell you otherwise, I mean. I like that we’re a team. I couldn’t imagine it being anyone else.”

“Damn right,” Nick said. He looked around as the beat to the song slowed dramatically, the people on the dance floor coming together and swaying slowly.

He was about to point out to Seth that Jazz and Gibby were looking like they were about to make out aggressively when Seth stood from his chair, seemingly determined. Seth held out his hand and asked, “May I have this dance?”

Completely and ridiculously charmed, Nick said, “Yeah. Yes. But remember, I learned from Cap, and he wasn’t messing around.”

Seth pulled him up, walking backward, eyes on Nick as the crowed parted behind him. “Then I guess you’ll be giving me a teaser of the Nick Experience.”

Mouth dry, Nick could only nod.

Seth led them away from most of the other dancing couples and found an unoccupied corner of the dance floor. Unsure if he was supposed to lead or let Seth have the honor, he stood awkwardly, hoping for some last-second inspiration. The choice was taken from him when Seth positioned Nick’s hand on his own waist. Seth then mirrored the position with his own hand on Nick’s hip, bringing them close together with only a whisper between them. He clasped Nick’s other hand, capturing it between them, his thumb brushing the skin of Nick’s palm.

“Show me what you got, Nicky,” Seth whispered, and Nick thought the rising temperature had nothing to do with whoever had cranked the heater up to ninety degrees.

They danced. Here, in this little corner of the world, they danced. It wasn’t perfect, but then, Nick thought beautiful things didn’t always have to be. The truth was in the awkwardness, the imperfection. It was in the way their knees knocked together, in the way Nick stepped on Seth’s feet a time or two. About to apologize, Nick stopped when Seth leaned forward. “It’s all right,” he said, mouth near Nick’s ear. “You’re doing fine. You got this, Nicky.”

He didn’t know how much he needed to hear it until this very moment, and even though it was just a dance, it gave Nick courage. It gave Nick hope, something to hold on to, and there, on the tip of his tongue: those three little words like a lighthouse guiding him home.

They danced for what felt like hours, everything else falling away.

Perfect? Never.

Good? Always.

The song ended.

Seth grinned at him as he stepped back. And because he was the best sort of person, he bowed low in front of Nick, one hand behind his back, the other flourishing in front of him. Nick laughed—not at him, never at him. He laughed because he was happy.

A new song started, another infectious pop travesty where the bass rumbled through the floor and walls, crawling along Nick’s sweat-slicked skin. Seth was pulled away by Jazz, and she shouted in joy as he spun her out expertly, their arms snapping. Before Nick could react, Gibby stood before him, a devilish smile on her face. “Let’s see what you can do, Nicky,” she said, taking her hands in his.

It wasn’t like it was with Seth. The beat was faster, insistent, and Nick wasn’t sure what to do with his arms or legs—especially when Gibby started moving like liquid smoke, something Nick would never be able to emulate, even with years of practice. But instead of worrying about how he looked, he let go. He raised his arms above his head, shimmying his hips, much to Gibby’s delight.

Then she was gone, and Jazz was in front of him. She put her hands on his shoulders, and Nick blushed furiously when she slid down his front, dropping low before rising back up slowly. She turned her back to him, her hair in his face as they moved together. Nick placed his hands on her deadly hips, feeling them as they swayed from side to side. There were others around them, the dance floor now crowded, but Nick paid them no mind, his sole focus on the way Jazz felt against him, Gibby and Seth in their periphery, Seth’s hands around the back of Gibby’s neck, hers on his waist. They all bumped together, moved together, dancing, dancing, and in the back of Nick’s mind, a thought like a comet shooting through his head—

We’ll always stand together. No matter what. Nothing can stop us. Not now, not ever.

Another slow song. He danced with Gibby, neither of them speaking.

Another fast song. He danced with Jazz, her eyes sparkling.

And then Seth was in front of him again, and Nick knew it was time. It had to be. It was now or never. Seth deserved it. He deserved everything good, and if Nick could add to that, if he could be part of it, then he had to give Seth his all.

He was nervous, yes, but it was a good kind of nervous, the kind where the butterflies in his stomach felt like they were on fire. He was burning from the inside out, and it had nothing to do with Extraordinaries or Pyro Storm. It was because of Seth.

Nick took a deep breath, letting it out slow as he and Seth swayed from side to side.

He said, “Seth?”

Seth smiled quietly at him. “Yeah?”

“I need to tell you something. Something big.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Seth shrugged. “Okay.”

Nick nodded. His palms were sweating, and his breath caught in his chest. They stopped moving. He looked at Seth, standing in the middle of the dance floor, his bow tie slightly askew, his glasses fogged up from the heat. Now, now, now.

Nick squared his shoulders. He held his head up high. He looked at Seth and said, “I l—where’s my dad going?”

Seth blinked. “What?”

Nick frowned as he looked beyond Seth, watching as his father practically ran from the cafeteria, heading for the doors that led further into the school. Dad looked as if he had his phone pressed against his ear, but Nick couldn’t be sure. It was probably nothing. Cap, maybe. Or Officer Rookie. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t supposed to matter. Tonight was about them, not anything else.

Still. Something tickled at the back of Nick’s mind, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It felt … off, somehow. Nick had learned a long time ago to trust his intuition. It might have led him astray a time or two, but often, that flutter in the back of his mind, that slick twist in his stomach, was something he’d learned to pay attention to.

“Stay right here,” Nick said. “Don’t move; I mean it. I’ll be right back. Need to check if my dad is okay.”

“You want me to go with?”

Nick shook his head. “Nah, it’ll only take a minute. When I get back, I’m going to tell you something you need to hear.” And because Cosmo taught him to always leave them wanting, he added, “Prepare to be amazed.” With that, he pushed by Seth.

He didn’t look back as he moved through the crowd, getting bumped and jostled, Seth calling after him, people looking annoyed as he apologized for an errant elbow. The music picked up again, vibrating down to his bones, the beat pulsing. He ground his teeth together as the pressure in his head began to build like he was getting one of his headaches. He hadn’t had one of those in a few weeks, not since he’d gotten on the new meds.

He cleared the dance floor and glanced back to see Seth talking to Gibby and Jazz, saying something Nick couldn’t hear.

As he was turning back toward the doors Dad had gone through, he crashed into someone. A waiter, his tray tumbling from his hands, glasses shattering on the floor, spraying liquid. The people closest to them turned and stared as Nick stuttered out an apology to the waiter, bending over to help him pick up the broken glass.

“It’s all right,” the waiter said with a sigh. “Happens to the best of us, honeybunch. Don’t worry about it.”

Honeybunch.

Nick raised his head slowly.

It was the same waiter he’d seen when they’d first arrived, the waiter who had looked familiar in ways Nick couldn’t quite place. Even crouched down, the man was tall, slender, his dark hair falling over his forehead. He picked up the pieces of glass, setting them on the tray on the ground. He must have felt Nick watching him, because he looked up.

And realized exactly what Nick had.

“Oh shit,” the man breathed.

“Miss Conduct?” Nick mouthed.

The man’s eyes widened. “Nick? What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my school! What are you doing here?”

The man—Miss Conduct—said, “Working. This is one of my jobs. I … oh my god. Is he here? Is Pyro Storm here too?”

“No,” Nick said quickly. Miss Conduct arched an eyebrow. “Wait, yes, but that’s not—why didn’t you tell us you were going to be working at our prom?”

Miss Conduct rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many high schools there are in the city? How could I have possibly known I’d be working at yours? Besides, it was a last-minute thing. Got a message to pick up some hours. Someone called in sick or their goldfish died in a house fire or something, I don’t know.” He frowned. “The number wasn’t one I recognized, but I don’t usually ask questions when it comes to getting paid.”

“That’s the perfect time to ask questions!”

“Riiiight,” Miss Conduct said, plucking up the last pieces of glass as he looked Nick up and down. “Killer suit, Nick. I approve.”

“Oh, thank you. It belonged to a dead magician.”

“That I believe.”

“Miss Conduct, I need to—”

“Stop calling me that,” he hissed. “Someone might hear you, and I thought we were supposed to be laying low. My name is Mateo.”

“Mateo,” Nick said, mind racing. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have to find my dad. He—”

“Go,” Mateo said, lifting the tray from the ground as he stood. “I have work to do. We can talk later.” He disappeared into the crowd, never looking back.

Nick stood, too, ignoring the people staring at him, whispering to each other. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what, but he was going to find out.