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Nick was rained on immediately. That was fine. Weteverythingwas fine because he was standing next to Shadow Star. It could have been raining acid, and he wouldn’t have complained.
“Okay,” Gibby said. “Get close, you guys.”
Nick squeaked but managed to cover it up with a cough. He scooted sideways until he was firmly pressed up against Shadow Star. He didn’t turn to look at him so he wouldn’t accidentally kiss the side of his head again.
“Nick, you look like you’re in pain. You need to smile.”
Nick smiled.
“And now you look like you’re about to eat baby animals. Dial it back.”
Nick dialed it back.
“There we go,” Gibby said. “Shadow Star, you don’t need to smile because you’re brooding and deep or whatever.”
“Exactly,” Shadow Star said. “I breathe the shadows of the dark, and—”
“Everyone sayI think Nick is super cute!”
“I think Nick is super cute,” Shadow Star and Nick said at the same time.
Gibby took the picture as Nick realized what had come out of Shadow Star’s mouth.
“You said I’m super cute,” he said in awe, blaming puberty for the way his voice cracked.
“That’s not—that’s what she told me to say.” Shadow Star sounded flustered.” I’m not—”
“So youdon’tthink he’s cute?” Gibby asked.
Yes, that. The most important question that had ever been askedin the history of humanity. Nick waited on pins and needles for Shadow Star to either confess his love or break his heart.
Shadow Star did neither. Instead, he said, “The dark heart of the city pulses beneath my feet. Its blood is calling for me. I have to go.”
And with that, the lights burst to life on his wrist. He pointed them at Mustache Man and Male Pattern Baldness. Their shadows grew on the walls behind them. Shadow Star grunted, and the shadows reached down and grabbed the would-be muggers, pulling them up the side of the building. Shadow Star crouched low before springing upward, landing on the wall, dark shades holding him against the brick as he ran after the criminals. He disappeared over the rooftop and was gone.
Nick stared up after him, blinking the rain away.
“You’re welcome,” Gibby told him, shoving his phone into his hand. “Now, can we go? Watching you get a boner in an alley that smells like feet is not how I expected to spend my afternoon. I need a shower.”
