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“Sparring,” Nick repeated slowly.
“Yep. Gotta keep in shape, you know? I mean, how else could I get your attention?” His smile widened. “I know how you like the muscles.”
Nick scowled at him. “I don’t like anything about you.”
“Now, now. We both know that’s not true. You missed me. Admit it.”
“I didn’t even notice you were gone.”
Owen laughed. “Someone got a backbone in the last couple of days. It’ll do you good when you become an Extraordinary, I think.”
Nick blinked. That sounded suspiciously close to a compliment. “Really?”
“Sure. That’s still a thing, right? You still want to be an Extraordinary?”
“Yeah, it’s still a thing. Other things have… happened, but it’s not going to stop me.”
Owen studied Nick so intently, Nick started squirming. Then, “It’s good to see you’re so adamant about it. Tell you what, Nicky. When you’re ready to play with the big boys, you let me know. I might be able to help you.”
Nick frowned. “Help me with what?”
Owen pinched his cheek again. “Is that a formal request?”
Nick shoved him away. “No. I don’t need your help with anything. I can do it on my own.”
“Sure, Nicky. Just remember that I offered, huh?”
And because Nick had a heart, messed up though it might be, he had to ask. “It was just… sparring, right? Not—” He hesitated, unsure if he was overstepping.
“Not what?”
“Not your dad?” Nick blurted before he could stop himself.
Owen looked taken aback, but he recovered quickly. And for a moment, the mask slipped again. “Nah. He wouldn’t raise a hand to me. Never has. I promise, okay? It’s not like that.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Now, shall we go see why they’re talking about us?”
“How do you know they’re talking about us?”
Owen winked at him. “Because they’re trying to act like they aren’t.”
Nick looked over at the table. Sure enough, Gibby was waving her hands at Jazz and Seth, whispering something that Nick couldn’t hear. Both Seth and Jazz turned their heads to look at Nick and Owen.
“Great,” Nick muttered.
“Eh,” Owen said. “If people aren’t talking about you, then you’re doing something wrong.”
If breakfast had been uncomfortable and the train station awkward, then lunch was absolutely excruciating.
It didn’t help that Jazz was staring at him weirdly, or thatGibby kept muttering under her breath aboutidiot boys. And Seth seemed barely able to meet Nick’s gaze for more than a second or two before he’d look away, pulling at his polka-dotted cravat. Nick also wanted to pull on it.
And it absolutely did not help that Owen seemed to be more… hands-on than usual. He leaned into Nick, bumped his shoulder, laughed quietly as he whispered in Nick’s ear. Seth scowled at Owen for almost the entirety of lunch, his forehead wrinkled, cheeks flushed.
“So,” Nick said, trying desperately to make things normal again. “I’ve decided to move on to Phase Three.”
“I assume that Phase Three is better than One or Two,” Gibby said through a mouthful of what appeared to be peanut butter and strawberry jam.
