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“Yeah, no,” the man replied, tugging his hand free. “That’s twenty bucks for the water. Ten for the bandana.”
“Twenty bucks forwater?” Nick exclaimed. “What the hell kind of racketisthis? You know what? Never mind. I support local businesses. You’re welcome.” He dug into his shorts pocket and threw a couple of crumpled bills on the counter before turning back to the TV in time to see Steve Davis’s face disappear, replaced by a podium set on a stage in front of a crowd, flags flying, people cheering, their arms waving in the air. The stage was lined with cops in uniform, standing at parade rest, eyes forward. An American flag hung limply next to a black-and-white flag with a single blue stripe across the middle.
“Does he really need eight cops up on the stage?” Nick asked. “Seems a little overkill.”
“Not when you’re trying to make a point,” Gibby said darkly. “See the banners behind them?”
Nick did, long red banners with white lettering across the middle spelling out one word:BURKE. “That’s… certainly a choice. Do you think they know Hitler had the same aesthetic, or…”
Gibby snorted. “Oh, I’m sure it crossed someone’s mind at one point or another.”
The camera panned over the crowd, a sea of white faces twisted in ecstasy. Behind them, blocked off by a line of at least twenty cops, were a smaller group of protesters, a Black woman at the front with a bullhorn, leading the chant of “NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE. NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE.” The protestors with her looked like they came from all walks of life, but most of them appeared younger than those in the crowd in front of the stage. The woman with the bullhorn raised a fist into the air, holding it steady as she continued to shout into the bullhorn.
“They must have started early,” Gibby said. “I bet they saw the stage getting set up.”
The camera turned back toward the stage just as a familiar figure climbed the few steps. She was smiling, waving with both hands at the crowd, her light hair in curls on her shoulders, her lips slashed a furious red. She wore a skirt and heels, and a collared shirt, the top few buttons open to reveal tan skin.
He hadn’t seen her in person since the night she infiltrated the prom. Though he didn’t have proof, Nick knew she’d been tipped off by someone, and that someone was undoubtedly Simon Burke.
“Rebecca Firestone,” Nick snarled as his archnemesis continued waving with an obnoxious grin, soaking up the adulation of the crowd.
“She’s so hot,” the man behind the counter said, glancing at the television. “Man, the things I’d let her do to me.”
“You need a priest,” Nick told him. “Someone with experience at performing exorcisms, because your soul being infested by a demon is theonlyreason anyone would say something like that.”
“Or,” the man said, “I have eyes. What. You don’t think she’s hot?”
“I do not,” Nick assured him. “I’m gay as balls, so.”
“She’s hot,” Gibby said. Nick started to sputter, and she added, “But only if you hate yourself.”
“Oh, I do,” the man said. “That’s another story entirely. When I was seven, my grandpa ran over my pet chinchilla, and I—”
“I don’t know what a chinchilla is,” Nick said. “Also, not to be rude, but I’m trying to watch TV in your store.”
The man muttered words under his breath. Nick chose to believe they were compliments. It made things easier, especially when Rebecca Firestone approached the podium and the crowd before her fell silent. The protestors continued to shout, but she ignored them.
“Nova City!” she said, voice booming. “How the hell are you?”
“Ugh,” Nick said, making a face. “The audacity. Trying to relate to people as if she’s not ten lizards wearing human skin.”
“It is my great honor to stand before you today,” Rebecca Firestone said, “to be able to introduce to you a man who loves this city with every fiber of his being. HeisNova City, born and bred, just like you, and that makes him a man of the people. He went to the same private schools—”
“Really relating to the common person,” Gibby muttered. “Nothing says understanding the struggles of the everyman like private schools.”
“—graduated from the top of his class at Nova City University—”
“Neat,” Nick said. “He’s an alumnus of the same school we’re all going to. How fun.”
“—built his company from the ground up all on his own.” The crowd cheered as if Simon Burke hadn’t come from a wealthy family, giving him opportunities most would never have. Why were people falling for this? Why couldn’t they see Burke for what he really was? Nick understood the power of words, but he didn’t know how anyone could hear Burke and believe what he was saying.
“I’m here to tell you that Simon Burke is the savior this city needs,” Rebecca Firestone continued, voice raising over the boisterous noise flooding over her. “We are the normal people. We are the citizens who want to take our city back from those who think they’re more than we are, those who think they can sit in judgment of the rest of us because of genetic abnormalities.”
“What the hell,” Nick breathed. “They’re not eventryingto hide it.”
The man behind the counter scoffed. “Saying the quiet part out loud.” Nick’s approximation of him rose an inch or two, his lust for Rebecca Firestone be damned.
“—which is why I’m so thrilled to be able to introduce the man who won’t let anyone or anything stop him from making this city the shining jewel it once was. My fellow Americans, I present to you the next mayor of Nova City… SimonBurke!”
