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7
Even though Nick had the support of his closest friends and an operation planned (at least in name only), it wasn’t until the weekend that he was able to get things going. Not because he didn’twantto start sooner (oh lord, did he) but because apparently junior year meant the teachers decided there should be at least forty-six hours of homework every night. Nick often wondered what happened in their childhoods to make them want to grow up and make his life miserable.
Not only did they ask for essays and warn of evils-to-come such as pop quizzes, they were also telling the students they needed to start thinking of theirfutures.Nick didn’t know how to explain that he was trying to do just that, but they were getting in his way. Sure, they were talking about things like colleges and vocational schools, and Nick was more focused on being able to conduct electricity through his fingertips, but still. It was easier to think about being an Extraordinary than it was to think about getting older.
Then Dad had a rare Saturday off, so they’d gotten pizza from Tony’s for an early lunch, sitting outside on the ancient tables, watching people go by, making up stories about who they were and where they were coming from and where they were going. It was something they’d done since Nick could remember. And Before, Mom had laughed and laughed at some of the stuff they’d come up with. She’d said they were the most creative people she’d ever known, and that she thought Nick would grow up to be an author one day.
It’d taken time After to—it hadn’t been easy. Nick had been confused and angry and scared, and Dad had been hollow-eyed and barely speaking. There were times Nick hadn’t seen him for days, their schedules so opposite, it was like they were merely roommates,and there’d been a moment when he’d been unable to sleep, his thoughts racing, thinking that hehatedhis father. He’dhatedhim for not protecting Mom even though he’d been nowhere near the bank when it’d happened, hated him for leaving Nick alone when he needed him the most. Hated him for not being strong enough. Hated him for saying, no, Nicky, no you can’t see her, kid, you can’t, it’s better off you remember her as she was. Then she came home in an urn, nothing but a pile of ashes that Nick couldn’t believe had once been his mother. They’d spread the ashes near the lighthouse, neither of them speaking.
It had gotten better, albeit slowly. Nick knew Cap had something to do with it, because suddenly Dad was home all the time, saying with an awkward shrug that it was a forced vacation. It’d lasted a few months, and they’d had to learn how to be the two of them in the same space where there’d once been three.
Things were better now, leading to days like today when it was just the two of them. They got back to the house, leftover pizza in a cardboard box. And there, sitting on the front steps of their old row house, was Nova City’s chief of police himself.
“Huh,” Dad said, glancing down at his watch. “He’s early.”
Nick was suddenly nervous. The last time Cap had been here had been right before theforced vacation,and though Nick had been upstairs, he’d kept his ear to the floor, hearing words likeI don’t have a choice here, Aaron,andyou were out of lineandyou punched awitness,for Christ’s sakeandyou’re lucky you’re not getting fired. It’s a demotion. Beat cop. I went to the mat for you, Aaron. I can’t keep you in Homicide. You’re a good cop. But you went too far here.You need to think of Nick. Take the offer. It’s better than having nothing at all. It’s either this or you look for a job in private security.
Yeah. So the last time Cap had been here hadn’t been the best.
Which was probably why Nick started breathing heavily, his forehead sweating.
“Nicky?” he heard his dad ask, concern in his voice.
Nick swallowed thickly, his fingers twitching at his side, always moving. “Is he—is he here to—”
To give bad news,he was trying to say, but couldn’t get the words out.
Dad was in front of him, balancing the pizza box in one hand, and his other on the back of Nick’s neck. “What are you—oh.Oh.No. No, Nick. He’s here to have a beer and watch the baseball game. I know your friends are coming over, or I would have invited you to watch with us.”
Nick nodded, trying to work his muscles loose. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Dad shook him gently. “Nah. That’s just it. Youwerethinking. And that’s okay. It’s my fault. Completely slipped my mind that he was coming. I should have told you. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Nick winced. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Dad sighed. “Yeah. I think I do. I know you’re trying, kid. I see that, and I appreciate it. And I need you to know that I’m trying too, okay? My fault. Won’t happen again.”
Nick felt weird, off-kilter. “I’m not fragile.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “I know. I figured that out the first time I dropped you on your head and it made a little dent. You didn’t even cry.”
Nick glared up at him. “What do you mean,the first time? There was more than once?”
“Being a parent is hard. Kids are slippery.”
“Baseball is stupid.”
“You were adopted. Didn’t even cost anything. You were in a box filled with free kittens outside of a bodega. We almost went with the calico.”
“You’re not funny,” Nick mumbled, though that was probably a good idea for an origin story. He could be Calico Man… or something. “I don’t know why you insist on thinking you have a sense of humor. Oh, hey. Idea. I’ll watch the baseball game with you and Cap, and you won’t complain if I have a beer.”
“Sure.”
Nick’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“No.”
“But you—oh mygod.Okay, what if I had just a sip?”
