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Nick nodded dumbly, unable to speak.
“I love love,” Gibby said with a sigh. “If you tell anybody I said that, I’ll get Jazz to stab you with her shoes.”
“I haven’t stabbed anyone in a long time,” Jazz said. “Feel free to tell anyone we don’t like.”
“Not all bad,” Nick choked out.
Not all bad?
Ha.
The moment they stepped into Centennial High, things were much, much worse. Because it seemedeveryonehad seen the news over the weekend. Not only were a good quarter of the students wearing unsanctioned Extraordinaries gear, they had also apparently decided that Nick was cool again.
“I followed the Twitter account,” a douchebro in a letterman jacket told him, slinging an arm around Nick’s shoulder and pulling him toward the front doors while Gibby, Jazz, and Seth glared behind him. “You think you could set up a meeting? You’re Pyro Storm’s spokesperson, right? Can you see if he’ll come to my house party next weekend? My dad will pay for him to come and light some stuff on fire.”
Before Nick could respond, he was pulled away by Megan Ross, one of the most popular girls in school. She was a senior and absolutely terrifying. “Ignore them,” she said, all business. “Hyenas, all of them, scavenging for meat. You need someone like me, Ned.”
“My name is Nick.”
She smiled sweetly. “You look like a Nick. It’s the eyebrows.”
He didn’t know what to do with that. “I need to get to class—”
She hooked her arm through his. “Here’s what I’m thinking. I’m in charge of the prom committee. The theme is Starry Night, which is stupid, but I was outvoted by heathens. However, if I go to them and tell themPyro Stormis coming to prom, we could get the theme changed. Think about it, Niles: all of us dressed in our best, music and lights and dancing, and thenPyro Stormdescends from the ceiling, fire flying around him. Starry Nights? Who needs Starry Nights when we could have Fiery Nights?”
“I don’t—”
She pressed a finger against his lips. “Shh. Shh, shh, shh. Think about it. Talk it over with Pyro Storm. And I’m his biggest fan. If he needs a date, I’d be more than willing to put out—I mean, put myself out there as a volunteer.”
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Nick asked. “In fact, isn’t he the douchebro you just stole me from?”
“Pyro Storm is on my celebrity list,” she said. “Jason and I both have them. If we ever get the chance to get with someone on our list, it doesn’t count as cheating.”
“I don’t understand heterosexuals,” Nick mumbled.
She ignored him. “So it’s settled; you’ll talk to Pyro Storm about coming to prom. Thank you, Nelson. You’re a sweetheart. I’ll never forget this. Erica, that better not be how you’re leaving the prom banner. It’s crooked. Itis. I can—you know what? I’ll handle it myself. Move. I saidmove.”
“They’ve all lost their damn minds,” Nick said as Megan practically shoved a girl out a window to fix the banner.
“It’ll blow over,” Gibby said. “It did last time, and it will again. Trust me. By the end of the day, people are going to forget all about you and Pyro Storm.”
Oh, Gibby.
Lunch—their refuge, where everyone usually ignored them—turned into a free-for-all. A line formed at their table with students asking for everything from autographs to wanting to know what Pyro Storm smelled like when he was angry. One enterprising girl asked if Nick would give Pyro Storm a package, telling him he shouldn’t open it because it was only meant for Pyro Storm. “It’s my underwear,” she whispered aggressively as she thrust a wrapped box (complete with a comical red bow) into Nick’s hands.
Nick yelped and threw the box across the cafeteria.
Unperturbed, the girl said, “It’s the thought that counts.”
“Your thoughts needJesus,” Nick bellowed after her as she left. He looked back at the line, hoping to see it starting to thinout. It wasn’t. If anything, more people were joining, and Nick couldn’t even enjoy the bologna sandwich Martha had made for him.
“Still think it’s a good idea to promote Pyro Storm?”
“Seth, I swear to god if you don’t—what? No, I’m not going to ask Pyro Storm to sign your purse, strange woman! I don’t even know who you—wait. Don’t you work in the front office? What the hell is wrong with you?”
By the time the final bell rang, Nick was convinced that Extraordinaries were the worst thing to happen to the world and that he never wanted to hear anything about them again. He hoped none of the fandom was hoping for an update on his fic anytime soon, because he’d most likely do something drastic, like update the tags with the dreaded Major Character Death so he could kill off Pyro Storm or, at the very least, make him lose his powers so that he and Nash could live a normal life away from the spotlight.
Which sucked balls, seeing as how an Extraordinary was in love with him and was going to prom with him. It should have been one of the best days of his life, instead of him wishing for a meteor to hit the earth and destroy everyone in a wave of fire. At least then they’d leave him alone. Because they’d be dead.
