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“Nick.”
He sagged, practically panting. “Thanks. That probably would have gone on for at least ten more minutes before I got to the point.”
“I’m aware,” she said dryly.
“It sucks,” Nick continued. “Burke has hurt so many people, none more so than his own son, and now we’re… what? Supposed to help him? After everything? How in the hell isthatfair?”
“It’s not,” Gibby said quietly. “But then being an Extraordinary never really is. I may not know what it’s like for you and Seth, but Jazz and I have been there for almost everything. We’ve seen how much it weighs on the both of you.” Then, another strange question. “Do you trust your mom?”
He wanted to say yes immediately. He did. It was on the tip of his tongue,right there,and yet, he couldn’t make the single word come out. Instead, he whispered, “I don’t… know.” The guilt that washed over him was enormous. Why shouldn’t he? She was hismother.This felt like a betrayal. “I don’t know,” he said again, this time, a little louder. Another thought struckhim, terrible, ridiculous. “I mean, it’s not like she’s working with Owen or anything. Or Burke. Or both.”
“She already did,” Gibby reminded him. “Remember? At least partially. It was a whole big thing. Your dad giving Burke info about Pyro Storm. The Concentra. And your parents were friends with Burke at one point.”
“My dad’s not like that,” Nick snapped. “Yeah, he screwed up, but he promised me there’d be no more secrets.”
“He kept Owen’s letter from you,” Gibby reminded him.
“He did,” Nick admitted. “But I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s worked his ass off to make things right. Also asked me to hold him accountable, and I’ve been doing that. We’re all each other has.”
Gibby looked spooked when she said, “You have your mom, too, though.”
Shit. He’d forgotten her. Again. Why would he not have included her? It wasn’t just him and Dad. It was the three of them. A team. Unnerved, he laughed. It sounded false even to himself. “Yeah. Of course. She’s—”
His phone pinged. Gibby’s, too.
They took a step away from each other. The cat above them hissed, ears flat against its skull, tail twitching. Nick pulled out his phone, looking down at the screen.
BREAKING NEWS
“Goddammit,” Nick muttered. “I really hate these stupid notifications. They’re never anything good. Like, why can’t the breaking news be to say that everything is fine and nothing is exploding?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Gibby said, tapping out a quick message on her phone before shoving it back in her pocket. “Come on. There was a TV behind the counter. Bigger screen. I sent a text to Jazz in case she and Seth didn’t see the notification.”
The guy at the counter arched an eyebrow at them as they approached. Behind him, the TV. Another commercial, this time selling jewelry or an advertisement for a mariachi band, Nick couldn’t be sure. He was about to tell Gibby that it couldn’t bethatimportant if Steve Davis wasn’t already on the screen with his cheekbones and too-white teeth, but then the commercial cut away, replaced by the Action News banner.
“Can you turn that up?” Gibby asked, leaning on the counter.
“Are you going to buy anything?” the man asked. “This isn’t a library.”
Nick squinted at him. “What does a library have to do with—forget it.” He dropped the water bottles on the counter, shoving them under the partition. Gibby did the same. “There. Now please turn up the TV.”
“Would you also like to purchase a festive bandana?” he asked, nodding toward a small plastic stand on their side of the partition. On it, rows of rolled-up bandanas in a variety of colors. “Ten percent of proceeds go to saving the whales.”
Gibby said, “Anything for the whales.”
“Hell yeah,” the man said. “Gotta keep those big fish swimming. Pick out a color you like. I’ll get the TV.”
“Whales aren’t fish,” Nick muttered as Gibby chose a green bandana with little white stars on it.
“And?” Gibby said out of the corner of her mouth. “It’ll get us what we want. Who cares?”
“—and we’re just getting word that… hold on.” Steve Davis touched the tiny mic in his ear. “Yes, it seems as if mayoral candidate Simon Burke is getting ready to speak in front of the Tenth Precinct of the Nova City Police Department. This wasn’t on any campaign schedule, so we don’t know what sort of speech he plans to give.”
“That’s Dad’s old precinct,” Nick said. “Why the hell would he be speaking there?”
Gibby scoffed. “He probably found out about the protest and decided to insert himself where he isn’t wanted.”
The man behind the counter held out his hand. Not thinking,Nick grabbed it and shook it. “Thank you for supporting the youth of this country. We are the future, and it’s important to recognize—”
