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“How do you know?” Gibby asked. “You have any evidence?”
Owen blinked innocently. “My word isn’t enough for you? How rude.”
“I bet your uvula is so precious,” Jazz whispered. “I can’t wait to tear it out and see it for myself.”
“Cheerleaders,” Owen muttered. “Yes, I have evidence. Heard it directly from the source when I was following her right after Gibby’s graduation. She was on the phone with my father and didn’t know I was listening in. After she ate Ice and Smoke’s powers, it nearly killed her. Too much all at once. Dad was trying to convince her it was just a fluke, but she said that to do more, she’d have to give up something she’d already taken. Dad wasn’t too happy about it, but from what I could gather, he seemed to listen. Why would he do that if she wasn’t telling the truth?”
“Then why don’t you do us all a favor and let her take yours?” Jazz asked. “Then we’d be rid of herandyou.”
“Aw, Jazz,” Owen simpered. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t,” Jazz retorted. “Stay there. If you move even a muscle,I’m going to make you regret ever being born.” She stood, motioning for the others to follow. Nick leaned heavily against Seth as they walked away from the tree, Gibby bringing up the rear.
Once they were out of earshot, they stopped, forming a small circle, heads bowed close together, shoulders touching. Nick took solace that—even in the face of this fresh wave of bullshit—his friends were with him.
Which was why he said, “I don’t trust him. None of us should. But I need you to trust me.” He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. “He’s telling the truth, at least about my mother. I don’t know about all the rest, but I remember. Please believe me.”
He opened his eyes when he felt them grab his hands. Jazz to his right. Seth on his left. Gibby wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. “We do,” she said quietly. “We may not remember like you can, but we trust you, Nicky. Always have. We don’t need to believe him because we believe inyou.”
Nick shuddered and did nothing to stop the tear that fell onto his cheek. “She’s gone,” he whispered. “I… it hurts so bad. It’s like I just lost her all over again.”
Jazz sniffled. “You have. And you need to allow yourself to grieve.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe Burke would… okay, so Icanbelieve he’d do something like this. I just didn’t expect it. And that somehow makes it worse.”
“We need to stay away from her,” Seth said, obviously troubled. “We can’t take the chance she’d mess with our heads even more than she already has.”
Gibby sighed as she let Nick go, taking a step back. “It’s like Nick said after graduation, remember? We’re alone. We don’t have our parents. We don’t have Miss Conduct. Chris. Anyone. What’re we supposed to do now?”
“Exactly the opposite of whatever Owen says we should do,” Jazz said. “He wants our help, but it sounds like he only wants revenge. That’s not who we are. We don’t hurt people, even if they deserve it.”
For a moment, Nick wanted to snap at her, tell her she was wrong. Hewantedto hurt people. He wanted to hurt the womanpretending to be his mother. He wanted to whirl around and make Owen suffer. And once they were done, he’d find Simon Burke and make him pay for everything he’d done.
The idea of revenge was seductive, and if he didn’t have his friends by his side, Nick wondered how quickly he’d give into it. The spark throbbed, but Nick rose above it. It didn’t control him. He controlled it.
“We might have to,” he said begrudgingly. “I don’t see how we can stop them withoutsomeonegetting hurt. And I’d rather it be them than us.” He thought hard. “If Owen’s right, then we might have the upper hand.”
“What do you mean?” Seth asked.
“My mot—”(No.)“Patricia Burke is stretched too thin as it is. She doesn’t have the level of control she thinks she does. Gibby’s proven that.” He looked at her proudly. “I don’t know why you can remember some stuff, but you’re badass, dude.”
“Damn right I am,” she said. “That’s why they call me Butch Fatale.”
“Oh my god,” Jazz whispered. “I know things are superserious right now, but that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. You should get a costume and say that to me again.”
Gibby winked at her. “Rain check, babe. But yeah, I’ve got some ideas. How do you feel about—”
“Focus,” Nick said, and Gibby nodded. He glanced back at Owen, who watched them, obviously amused. Owen gave a little wave, and Nick drew his finger across his neck pointedly before turning back around to his friends. “We don’t trust him. We don’t trust the woman pretending to be my mother. The cops are in Burke’s pocket, so it’s not like we can go to them.”
“What about your dad?” Seth asked. “Maybe he’d believe you if you told him.”
Nick wished that were true. He wanted nothing more than to go running to Dad to make everything better. It hurt to think Dad might not listen to him. And could he blame him for that? In Nick’s own head, memories warred with one another.
“I don’t know,” Nick admitted. “Do you think your aunt and uncle would listen? Or Jazz’s and Gibby’s parents? What if she finds out and tries to use them against us?” He trembled at the thought. “It’d be the four of us against all of them. We have to protect them as much as we protect ourselves.” He laughed bitterly. “Which means we’ll be doing the exact thing we’ve been wrestling with for a year: keeping secrets. God, I’m such a hypocrite.”
“What choice do we have?” Jazz asked, worry etched across her face.
“We can’t go on like this forever,” Gibby said. “Something has to break. We need to figure out a way to get through to them.” Her forehead furrowed. “It all comes back to Patricia Burke. She’s the one who has a hold over them.”
“And us, too,” Jazz said. “Because even though I believe she’s not Nick’s mom, my mind is telling me she is.”
