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“Sick?” Nick asked. “He was fine yesterday.” When he’d kissed Nick on the cheek and then run away to save the animals from the flooding. Nick had almost forgotten about it with everything that had happened since then.
Gibby coughed. “Must have been those cats he had to save, or whatever. Ferals carry all kinds of weird crap.”
“He’s sick with a cat disease?” Jazz asked. “I wonder if he’ll cough up a hairball.”
That startled a laugh out of Nick. “Oh, man, that would be so gross. And awesome.”
Gibby squeezed Jazz’s hand. “I’m not sure that’s quite how it works.”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who said he got sick because of feral cats.”
“I know. And I accept any and all blame. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Probably will be back by tomorrow.”
Nick tugged at a hangnail on his finger. “I’ll go see him after school. Make sure he’s not dying.”
Gibby hesitated. “You sure that’s a good idea? He might be contagious.”
“Eh. I eat a lot of oranges.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat an orange in the entire time I’ve known you,” Jazz said. “And speaking of, why aren’t you eating?”
He’d stormed out of the house without grabbing his lunch because his dad wished he was someone different. “Forgot it. And I was supposed to remind Dad to add money to my lunch account, but I forgot.”
“You can have some of mine,” Jazz said. “I have chicken and avocado salad with lime and cilantro. There’s also bread and olive oil.”
“I’ve got cold pizza and an apple,” Gibby said, peering into her own lunch bag. “Should be more than enough to go around.”
Nick shrugged. “Not that hungry.”
Jazz narrowed her eyes at him. “You will eat our food with us, Nicky. And you’ll like it.”
“All right, all right. Twist my arm, why don’t ya.” He grimaced. “On second thought, please don’t do that. You’re much stronger than I am.”
“As long as we have an understanding,” she said primly, spreading her cloth napkin in her lap.
Gibby handed him a piece of pizza. Jazz put chicken and avocado on top of it. It tasted disgusting, but it made him feel a little bit better. “Neither of you have heard from Owen?”
Jazz shook her head. “But that’s not weird, right? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a text from him.”
“Me either,” Gibby said.
Nick frowned. “He texts me all the time.”
Gibby rolled her eyes. “That’s because he wants to suck your—”
“No need to be crude while we’re eating,” Jazz told her.
“Oh, I didn’t know we were so civilized here at our metal lunch table surrounded by screaming teenagers. Ishan’tforget again, Your Majesty.”
“I saw him yesterday,” Nick said suddenly. “When I was late. His dad dropped him off.”
Jazz’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. “You saw Simon Burke? Here?”
“Yeah. And it was weird too. They were arguing.” Maybe notthatweird. Nick had done just the same with his father that very morning. “I don’t know. It looked intense. Whatever it was, Owen told me he was skipping the rest of the day. Guess he decided to do it today too.”
Gibby snorted. “And he tried to make you go with him, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, but I said no. I’m—it’s not like that. Not anymore.”
