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Until the doorbell rang again.

Martha pulled back, cocking her head. From below, Bob opened the door, and voices filled the Gray house. Nick sagged in relief when he recognized the voices. Gibby. Jazz.

“Go into Seth’s room,” Martha said, standing up quickly. “Change out of these clothes. I’ll fix you all something to eat.”

“Not hungry.”

“I don’t care,” Martha said. “You will eat, and you will say thank you.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She bent over, kissing his forehead. “You’re welcome.”

When he opened Seth’s bedroom door again, now clad in fuzzy pajama pants and an old, oversized shirt, Gibby and Jazz were waiting for him in the hall. Gibby was gnawing on her hoodie string, her wallet chain dangling against her side. Jazz was wearing the same clothes she’d been in when she’d come over to Nick’s house earlier that afternoon. Nick couldn’t believe it’d only been a few hours since he’d been staring at the TV in the attic, watching his mother move things with her mind.

“You all right?” he asked Jazz. “I shouldn’t have left you like I did.”

“Stupid boys,” she said with a sniff. “Scaring the crap out of me, like you have any right to.” And then Nick found himself with an armful of Jazz, his face in her hair. She smelled of blooming flowers, and Nick calmed a bit more. He held an arm out for Gibby, who rolled her eyes for show but came willingly. She hugged them both, and they swayed back and forth.

“So, Extraordinary, huh?” Gibby muttered against his throat, her lips on his skin. “Jazz told me.”

“Seems like,” Nick whispered back. “Though I feel really stupid now about the whole cricket-in-the-microwave thing. And the meteor thing. And the breaking into a power plant. And jumping into the river.”

“What about theCosmoidea board? You should probably feel stupid about that too.”

Nick reared back. “That was an amazing idea board, and don’t youdaretalk shit about it. I worked really freaking hard on it, and look! It worked, sort of. Hurray.”

Gibby snorted as Jazz wiped her eyes. “Jazz is right. Stupid boys.”

“Seth?” Nick asked.

Gibby and Jazz exchanged a glance. “Downstairs beating up the punching bag. We figured it was best to leave him for now.”

“He—yeah, I guess he’s pissed.”

Jazz took his hand, tugging him toward the stairs, Gibby trailing after them. “We’re gonna fix this. We’ll talk it through, and everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

“What if it’s not?” Nick asked.

To that, she had no answer.

Martha was in the kitchen, phone in her hand. She brought a finger to her lips as they peered in from the entryway. “I understand that, Aaron,” she said into the phone, and Nick closed his eyes. “But you have to see where he’s coming from. It’s just for a day or two, okay? I’ll make sure he gets to school on Monday if he’s still here.” She paused, brow furrowing. “Well, sure, if you want to drop them by, I’ll make sure he gets his medicine.” Nick’s eyes popped open, but Martha continued. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll force him to take it, especially if he’s right about where the Concentra came from and what it does. Seems to me as if you have some explaining to do. To all of us.” Dad said something else. Martha shook her head. “Regardless, if he doesn’t trust what you’re giving him—and, potentially, rightly so—why would he take it?” She flapped a dish towel at them, mouthing the wordSeth.

They left the kitchen behind, heading for the basement.

Bob stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall. He turned his head as they approached, nodding toward the basement. From below came the sounds of dull thuds as Seth worked out whatever was going on in his head.

“Tread lightly,” Bob said. “I’ve never seen him this keyed up. He’s angry, but I don’t think he knows at who. When we’re that upset, we lash out at whoever’s closest, even if they don’t deserve it.”

“We can handle it,” Gibby told him. “Trust me, we’re experts in the minds of idiots.”

“It comes with the territory,” Jazz agreed, and Nick couldn’t even find a reason to complain. “We won’t be weird, promise.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Nick reminded her.

“Yeah, no,” Gibby said. “It’s weird. What are the chances that three people we know personally ended up being Extraordinaries?”

“And they’re all gay,” Jazz said with a frown.

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