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Nick took a deep breath, pulling his powers back. The spark dimmed slightly, but it did not go out.
Seth sat up in the bush, leaves in his hair. “What wasthat?”
“That,” Mateo said, grimacing as he pushed himself off the pillar, “was exactly what I asked for, but now immediately regret. Damn, Nick. You’ve been holding back. Good to know.”
Nick grinned even as he helped Mary and Trey to their feet, apologizing profusely. Seth crawled out of the bush, and they began again.
They did their best. They knew the stakes, that they’d only get one shot to get this right. So many moving parts, and if one failed, the rest was sure to follow. Nick knew his weaknesses. Obstinate. Loud. Opinionated. Never met a word he didn’t like. Chaos personified.
But he also knew his strengths. Brave, even though a little voice still sometimes whispered that he was a coward. Strong, and only getting stronger. Smart, sometimes. Did he make mistakes? Hell yes, but he still tried to right his wrongs as best he could, and learn from the experience.
It was these thoughts Nick had that last night before the end. A Thursday evening, the moon growing fatter, faint stars blinking across a black sky. The lights around the Kensington backyard had been dimmed to a faint glow. It was warm, but nowhere near as stifling as it’d been. It could have been any day in the middle of summer.
Gibby, Jazz, and Seth sat on the edge of the pool, their legs and feet in the water. They’d been talking about tomorrow, going through their plan again and again until they were sick of it. But that had faded after a time, all of them falling quiet, lost in their own thoughts.
Nick lay on his back behind them, hands on his chest as he looked up at the sky. He wondered, as he sometimes did, what she would think of them if she could see them now.
He looked at his friends, their backs to him. Seth’s head lay against Gibby’s shoulder, his curls bunched up against her cheek, her ear. Jazz kicked her feet in the water, causing ripples to spread throughout the pool.
“What are we going to do this weekend?” Seth suddenly asked.
Nick and Jazz looked at him as he lifted his head from Gibby’s shoulder. He moved his legs, water splashing. From somewhere in the city, the sound of sirens, distant. Someone in the house laughed.
“This weekend,” Gibby repeated. “You mean…”
Seth shrugged. “After tomorrow. What are we going to do? What if we went to the movies? Or we could have another picnic in the park. And maybe this time we’ll be able to finish without anyone needing to be stabbed with a fork.” He rose from the ledge of the pool, coming over to Nick, bare legs dripping water. He sat down next to Nick, leaning back on his hands.
Jazz came next, Gibby trailing after. Jazz lay down on the other side of Nick, her hair brushing against his face. “Picnic sounds good. Movies, too. We could make a day of it. M&M’s in the popcorn. Sodas. Nachos with that gross movie-theater cheese.”
Gibby settled against Seth, her head in his lap. He looked up at the sky. “Or maybe we could go to a museum. See old dinosaur bones. I haven’t been since… wow. Since Nick’s mom took us when we were… what. Ten. Eleven?”
“Eleven,” Nick said. “For your birthday, remember? You wanted to be an archeologist after we watched those old Indiana Jones movies a billion times that fall.”
Seth chuckled, cheeks darkening. “I remember. But… uh. It wasn’t just that.”
Gibby grinned up at him. “You had a crush on him, didn’t you?”
“A little,” Seth admitted. “Okay, maybe more than a little. Didn’t know really what it meant, but when he cracked that whip…”
“Hell yes,” Nick said. “Good taste, man. Tell you a secret?”
They looked at him.
“I used to have this dream. Of thesexyvariety. Me and Han Solo in a hot tub.”
Seth gaped at him. “You had sex dreams about Han Solo?”
“Yep,” Nick said. “And I don’t even feel bad about it. Believe me when I say that Han shot first.”
Jazz began to giggle, Gibby following soon after, arms wrapped around her stomach as she rolled back and forth. Seth snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll give you that, Nicky. I’m not even jealous.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Nick told him. “You’re better.”
“Aw,” Jazz said, wiping her eyes as Seth spluttered. “Hear that, Seth? You’re better than Indiana Jones and Han Solo.”
Seth rolled his eyes fondly. “That’s a lot to live up to, but I’ll take it, I guess.”
Jazz shifted until she curled against Nick’s side, her head on his chest. He put his face in her hair, breathing her in. “Maybe it’s unrealistic. Maybe we won’t always be like this.” She sniffled. “I worry about it. Not all the time, but some.”
