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The sound Nick made was one he wasn’t proud of, a low wheeze that was better suited for the brakes on a city bus. She was right.Always be prepared.The measuring tape he’d used cemented the fact that he didn’t need Magnums, much to his consternation, but he was sure they made condoms for someone who was … well, average. For his age.Cosmotold him there was a chance he’d get bigger as he got older, but he needed to learn to work with what he had. After all, it wasn’t the size that mattered, but what you could do with it. That also came fromCosmo, in an article titled “So You’re Average? Guess What? That’s Okay!” He’d read it enthusiastically, nodding along with the carefully placed platitudes that assuaged his ego, all the while wondering ifSethwould be in the same boat, or if he was hiding some kind of monster that probably only existed in fics and porn—which then, of course, sparked a bit of inspiration: Nash Bellin and Pyro Storm, trapped in a mountain cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, and wouldn’t you know?There was only one bed, and then Pyro Storm would take off his pants, and underneath, there’d be … he’d have a …
“Right,” he choked out. “The condoms. How could I forget?”
Jazz shook her head. “If you can’t even talk about rubbers without blushing, you aren’t ready. Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, Nick. You only get your first time once.”
“Did you—do you and Gibby—”
“Have sex? Yes, but we talked about it a lot before we ever decided to do it. There was some trial and error, but Gibby can do this thing with her tongue that is … absolutely not helping this conversation, by the look on your face.”
“Congratulations on all the sex,” Nick managed to say before coughing roughly.
“Thank you,” Jazz said primly. “We’re very good at it.”
“One thing at a time,” he said. “First, I’ll jump off a building, and then we can go buy condoms.”
“And lube,” Jazz said. “You’ll need lots and lots of lube. Like an entirevatof lube.”
“Stop sayinglube!” he bellowed at her as he backed away from the edge of the roof, bouncing on his feet. One jump. That’s all it would take. One jump, and if it didn’t work, Seth would be there to catch him. Do it. Just do it and get it over with.
Raising his hands above his head, he yelled, “It’s time to take out the trash!”
“Nicky,no!” Gibby moaned.
“Nicky,yes!”
And then he ran for the edge of the roof.
He stopped right before the edge. “Okay, that was a practice one to get me in the groove. Only seventeen more of those, and we’ll be in business.”
Gibby sighed. “I can’t believe I’m wasting another Saturday with this.”
Ten minutes later, he’d run to the edge sixteen more times. Gibby had given up on him and was watching cat videos on her phone. Jazz, ever the cheerleader, stood next to Nick, rubbing his shoulders, sayingYou got this, champ; I believe in you, sport; you’regolden, bud. And while Nick appreciated her support, he stopped her when she began telling him that she always thought of him as a son.
What hedidn’ttell her—or any of them, for that matter—was that this very building was one his father had told him about. That his mother had come here with the same idea in mind after she’d revealed what she could do. Dad had been terrified, standing on the ground below, waiting for her to jump. She hadn’t stalled like Nick was currently doing; Dad had told him that she was fearless to the point of lunacy. She’d vaulted off the roof of the building and fallen so fast that Dad had thought she was going to die right in front of him.
She hadn’t. It hadn’t even been close.
Halfway down, she’d just … stopped.
“Brave,” he whispered. “Be brave.”
Everything else melted away. Jazz, Gibby, the birds screeching on the roof opposite them, the cold air, the honking of car horns from the street below—all of it was gone, and the only thing Nick could hear was the sound of his quick breaths, the thundering of his heart.
And in his head, a flash of pressure, a bit of pain.
Gibby said, “Maybe we should—Nick!”
She must have seen the moment indecision was replaced by conviction. Wind whipped through his hair as he pumped his arms and legs, teeth gritted, skin slick with sweat despite the winter chill.
The edge of the roof grew closer and closer.
He jumped.
And immediately regretted all his life’s choices.
He began to fall, screaming, “Mistake! I’ve made a mistake, oh my god, what iswrong with me?” He plummeted toward the ground, Seth already at a crouch, licks of fire blooming around his feet, ready to rocket up and catch Nick so he didn’t freakingdiein an alley wearing underwear with buffalo printed on them. He hoped the coroner wouldn’t make fun of him when performing the autopsy.
He closed his eyes—and there, in the darkness, was a little ball of light, a spark floating. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around it. It was warm and soft and he clutched it close, keeping it safe, holding it tight—
