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With Nick’s refusal to answer this simple question came an unexpected side effect: a fresh wave of speculation. Owen Burke had been Shadow Star, ergo it was possible that Pyro Storm was also a student at Centennial High. A list was made and circulated of the most likely suspects, and Nick was outraged when Seth hadn’t made said list. It was mostly filled with douchebros who did nothing to dispel the rumors, cockily saying that even if theywerePyro Storm, they’d never tell. Even a few girls made the list, which offended Nick greatly—not because of their gender, of course, but because he would never be caught dead making out with a girl. The very idea was homophobic.
It didn’t help that he knew everyone hadseenhim kissing Pyro Storm after the Battle of McManus Bridge. To keep anyone from connecting the dots to Seth, he’d started a rumor that Pyro Storm had broken up with him when he realized Nick’s heart would always belong to Seth. This had backfired quite spectacularly as it’d spread like wildfire, most believing that Nick had cheated on Pyro Storm with Seth. Pyro Storm was better-off, they all agreed. He needed someone who would appreciate him for all that he was. Nick obviously couldn’t do that, so it was for the best.
With that, Nick’s popularity went as quickly as it’d come. It’d hurt a little, but he’d gotten over it.
That being said, he was alittle(read: a lot) irritated when everyone suddenly became fixated on Extraordinaries. They showed up to school with graphic T-shirts with Shadow Star’s face on them and backpacks with a terrible likeness of Pyro Storm printed on it. They shared pictures of sightings of Extraordinaries from all over the world:
Eis Augen, a German man who could shoot ice from his eyes, his name literally translating to Ice Eyes. He was suave and coldly handsome and lived in a frozen palace outside of Berlin.
Valve, the man in Oregon who could create portals to travel long distances in the space of seconds and was revolutionizing the travel infrastructure of Portland. He’d also accidentally on-purpose opened a portal on the marchers in a Straight Pride Parade. No one quite knew where the second portal had opened, and the problematic heterosexuals hadn’t been seen since.
Florida Man, the dude in Tallahassee whose skin was the color and texture of an alligator, his teeth terribly sharp. He was currently going through a name rebranding, given that most search results for “Florida Man” brought up stories of people eating bath salts and going through a KFC drive-through on an alpaca.
The Sheep Herder, a woman in New Zealand who could control the minds of sheep to get them to do whatever she wanted. Her popularity had spiked when she’d sent seven hundred sheep after a group of twelve white nationalists who had been holding a rally in Wellington. Last anyone heard, they still hadn’t stopped running from the herd of sheep chasing after them.
And dozens and dozens of others, some with powers small, some with powers great. He’d even heard of an Extraordinary capable of changing their appearance to mimic anyone they wanted, including getting the powers of those they copied. That sounded cool as hell, but Nick thought it was a little far-fetched, and he hadn’t been able to confirm it after spending hours online, only to hit dead end after dead end. Everyone at Centennial High (and throughout the rest of Nova City) waited with bated breath to see if any other Extraordinaries would rise in their fair city, along with Pyro Storm.
It was quiet without Shadow Star, which was good. It was fine. They didn’tneeda villain. Quiet meant easy. Quiet and easy meant Seth would always come back to Nick.
But the problem with things being quiet and easy was that Nicholas Bell had never been quietoreasy. Loud and complicated was Nick through and through, and he couldn’t help but wonder if things were a littletooquiet, a littletooeasy.
But everything can change in an instant. A snowflake can lead to an avalanche.
And on a cold February morning, it began to snow.
We’re going to be late,” Jazz said, eyeing Nick with mild disdain and curiosity. She frowned as she readjusted her Hermès scarf, as if it were Nick’s fault it had gone slightly askew.
“I know, I know,” Nick muttered. He set his backpack on a bench in the Franklin Street Metro Station and began to riffle through it. “I swear my phone was in here. I don’t know where the hell it went.” He wasn’t panicking—not yet—but he was close. He needed his phone. It was his lifeline to Dad, just in case.
“Did you drop it?” Gibby asked. “I’ll do it.” She shoved his hands out of the way and pulled the bag into her lap. He didn’t protest; Gibby seemed like she was in a foul mood.
“I didn’t drop it,” Nick said, glancing up at the crowd moving around them. “I had it on the train when Seth texted and said he was running late and was probably going to fly to school. I swear I put it back in my bag.”
“Yikes,” Jazz said. “I’m apparently not used to hearing stuff like that yet.”
“Thankyou,” Nick said. “I mean, objectively, we know he can do it, but still, hearing about it trips me out. He doesn’t get why.”
“Gross,” Gibby said, grimacing as she pulled out a busted lip balm that’d exploded and was now covered in hair. “What the hell, Nicky. Clean your damn backpack.” She tossed the lip balm in the trash can next to the bench before resuming the search. “You’re a gay boy. You’re supposed to be neat and tidy.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Jazz said, squeezing his arm. “That’s stereotyping. You can be however you want to be, so long as it doesn’t involve you jumping into the Westfield River again. I still have nightmares about the way you smelled.”
“We all do,” Gibby said. “I’m glad you’ve moved on from—Aha! Got it.” She pulled out his phone and tossed it at him.
Nick was too grateful to argue. He glanced down at the screen—no messages—before sliding it into his pocket and taking his backpack from Gibby. “How’re things going with your parents?”
Gibby shrugged. “Slow going, I guess. I mean, Dad is still pissed off. Mom too. They haven’t said I can’t hang out with you, so I’m counting that as a win. We’ll see where it goes, I guess.”
“Daddy and Mom had a billion questions,” Jazz said. “I didn’t know the answer to most of them, so they’re probably still confused—though Mom did have to tell Daddy that he can’t just ask Seth to light things on fire.”
Nick sighed. “I don’t know what it says about me that I think the way your Dad does.”
“It’s good,” Jazz said. “Or really bad. One of those two.”
“Uh, yeah,” Nick said. “Sure. Let’s go with that.” He glanced at Gibby nervously. “Can I ask you a question?”
Gibby frowned at him. “When have you ever asked instead of going for it?”
Shrugging awkwardly, Nick said, “First time for everything, I guess. I—” He steeled himself, knowing this was important but fearing the answer. “Has—has my dad ever scared you? Like, not … ugh. Not like he was coming after you, but—”
