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He almost called Owen, but that was probably a bad idea. Owen still made him feel weird when they talked on the phone, and he wasn’t in the mood to hear Owen do that dumb flirting thing he did.
Instead, he put the phone beside him and stared at it, thinking as hard as he could at it so Seth would call him back.
It didn’t work, and fifteen minutes later, Nick had the beginnings of a headache.
He picked the phone back up, looking at the photo of him and Shadow Star for longer than was healthy.
He texted his dad, letting him know that everything was five-by-five and that he was doing his homework, even though homework on the first day of school was the equivalent of Christmas getting canceled and being replaced by a mayonnaise enema. He thought it was dramatic enough so Dad wouldn’t know he’d already done his homework in detention.
He stared at his phone some more.
He thought about posting the photo on Tumblr. It would set the fandom on fire and would add to the validity of his fic. After all, he’d breathed the same air as Shadow Star now, which meant he understood the Extraordinary better than anyone else in the fandom.Do it. Just do it.Let them all see he wrote from experience, which was what every author worth their salt should do.
He overthought it. It might be using his position as Shadow Star’s most incredible rescue to increase his popularity, and he never wanted to use Shadow Star for anything.
Well. Maybe for a few things that shouldn’t be said out loud because in all seriousness, Nick was sort of a prude when it came down to it.
His phone still hadn’t rung. His stomach rumbled.
“Fine,” he growled, his voice almost like Shadow Star’s. “I’ll go downstairs and forget how I have no one to tell this to, even though I’m never going to be the same again.”
He needed new friends. But the idea of trying to make new friends sounded terrible, so he decided to keep the ones he had, even if they did things like not call him back when he wanted them to.
He stood from the bed and was about to head down the stairs when his phone lit up and started ringing. He dove for it immediately.
“Did you get my message?” he asked breathlessly. “You’re not going to believe what happened to me. Like, it was the greatest thing that has ever happened to anyone in the history of ever. Not even the advent of the Industrial Age can compare. You’ll never guess. Okay. Start guessing.”
The person on the other end of the phone sighed. “Do I even want to know?”
Nick pulled the phone away from his ear in horror.
The screen saidDADDIO.
He gave very serious thought to hanging up right then and there. And running away. He’d have to get a new identity. And a job on a barge. He’d grow a beard, and when someone tried to get close to him, he’d shut down and become distant because he could never know the touch of another.
But since he couldn’t be sure he even knew what a barge was exactly, he put the phone back to his ear and, trying to act like absolutely nothing had changed, said, “Hey, Pops. What’s the haps? What’s the 411?”
There was a beat of silence. Then, “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” Nick said quickly and believably. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I’m doing is sitting here at home where I’m supposed to be on a school night, doing my homework. Soon, I’ll go downstairs and eat something healthy and go to bed early since everyone knows children need a good night’s sleep in order to function—”
“Nicky.”
Nick sucked in a sharp breath of air. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“I left you your pill on the counter. You need to take it, okay? You sound a little wired.”
And didn’t that just put a damper on things. “I’m not—”
“Nicky.”
“I’m allowed to be excited and happy,” Nick muttered. His headache was getting worse.
Dad made a sound that was either annoyed or exhausted, Nick didn’t know which. It hurt either way. “No one’s saying you aren’t. In fact, you being excited and happy is one of my favorite things in the world. But I want to make sure we’re being safe about it. I’m not trying to take that away from you.”
“It feels like it. Sometimes.” Nate picked at his comforter. He knew Dad was right. The adrenaline of the afternoon was already working its way out of his system, and he felt himself crashing.
“You trust me?”
