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Shadow Star turned toward Nick.
It was at this moment that Nick realized two very different things:
First, his underwear was wet from the rain, and having wet underwear was worse than wet socks.
Second, this was the moment he’d been waiting for ever since he’d seen Shadow Star for the first time On the news three months to the day since Before had become After—a blurry cell phone video that showed him backflipping off the top of a bridge, landing in front of a man who’d been ready to end it all and jump into the Westfield River. Nick had, at last count, watched said video 647 times in the last two years. Granted, since then, there’d been other, clearer videos of Shadow Star (hell, he’d even been interviewed, though it’d been with Rebecca Firestone, but Nick had become an expert at muting the video whenever she spoke), but that had been Nick’s first, and therefore his favorite.
So, yes. Nick’s underwear was wet, and his crush on this Extraordinary could apparently grow even bigger when he was standing right in front of him. He needed to act cool. It was not every day one was rescued by the superhero of their dreams.
The problem with that was Nick didn’t necessarily know how tobecool. Oh, sure, he understood the objective concept of it, but Nick was an awkward sixteen-year-old boy who wasn’t always in control of his mouth. Which was why instead of being cool and sayingThank you for saving us, you’re so neat, my name is Nick, and I’m glad I’m not dead right now,he blurted, “I have a pillow with your face on it!”
The only sound that followed Nick’s slow, mortifying death, was the rain on the pavement. And Gibby saying, “This is painful to watch.”
Shadow Star offered a hint of a smile, and Nick did his best not to stare, though he was failing spectacularly. “Are you all right, citizen?”
He couldn’t believe Shadow Star was actually talking to him. “I don’t do anything weird with the pillow, in case you were wondering,” and oh god,why couldn’t he stop talking about the stupid pillow?
Shadow Star said, “Oh. That’s… good.”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “It is. Like, so good.”
“Right,” Shadow Star said slowly. He glanced over Nick’s shoulder at Gibby, then looked back at Nick, who couldn’t help noticing they were almost eye to eye. Add in the fact that Shadow Star looked so much younger up close, and Nick couldn’t tell if he was smitten, or if he was about to faint. “Are you both all right?”
“Aside from the emotional trauma that will probably rear its head when I’m thirty-seven and working at my cubicle in a dead-end job that I hate, just fine,” Nick babbled, unsure why the words coming out of his mouth were the ones his brain deemed necessary to speak out loud.
“I’m fine,” Gibby said mildly. “Any trauma I might have had is being washed away by the tragic comedy occurring right in front of me.”
Shadow Star took a step toward them, gaze fixed on Nick. For his part, Nick remained where he was, though he doubted he could have moved even if he wanted to. Shadow Star’s mouth twisted slightly, and Nick tracked the movement with laser-sharp focus. They were—speaking objectively, of course—nice lips. Perhaps the nicest lips he’d ever seen.
Shadow Star leaned toward him, and though Nick had no idea what the hell was going on, he was so on board with this unexpected turn of events, because it looked like Shadow Star was going to kiss him.
Holy shit. Yes. Yes.Yes.
This was what he’d written fanfiction for. He understood at that moment that Shadow Star had seen through Nick’s failings as a human being and had somehow already fallen in love with him right back. He didn’t know how it’d happened (especially soquickly—maybe Nick was cooler than he thought), but he was already picturing a house in the suburbs where he’d go to book club meetings and say things like, “Yes,Pride and Prejudiceis an old book about stuff, but I didn’t get a chance to finish it because Shadow Star took me out to dinner last night at a fancy restaurant that had separate forks for the salad.”
Life was glorious.
Except.
Except it wasn’t a kiss. It was Shadow Star bringing his left leg up toward his chest, then kicking it out behind him. The moment Nick thought was supposed to be the second first kiss of his life was actually Shadow Star’s foot striking the newly risen Mustache Man in the chest, knocking him back.
And yet, Nick’s lips didn’t get that message until it was far too late. He kissed the side of Shadow Star’s head, right on his mask. It tasted of wet rubber.
Gibby made a sound like she was choking behind him.
Nick widened his eyes in terror as Mustache Man slammed against the wall, slumping down on top of Male Pattern Baldness.
Shadow Star lowered his leg. “Did you just… kiss my head?”
Nick forgot how to human. To his horror, he fell back on old habits with the sound he made: that of an amorous elk in the Pacific Northwest, bleating and terrible.
Gibby, struggling to breathe, said, “Why is nobody else here to witness this?”
Gathering what was left of his wits, Nick said, “Um. No?”
“Oh,” Shadow Star said. “Because I could have sworn you kissed the side of my head.”
“Nope,” Nick said, thankful that it was still raining, so no one could see that his entire body was on its way to being covered in flop sweat. “I didn’t do that. That would be weird.”
