Flash Fire

by TJ Klune

  Their waiter appeared out of nowhere, eyeing Nick’s suit with what could either be disdain or absolute jealousy. Nick preferred to think it was the latter. The waiter smiled at them before setting down a small black folder on the table. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said, taking away their discarded plates and silverware.

  Nick made to grab the folder, only to have it plucked out of his hands by Jazz. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It’s on me.”

  “Oh, thank god,” Nick said. “I mean, are you sure?”

  Jazz rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of having parents who are rich if you don’t take advantage of it?” She paused, considering. “Besides, we still have an entire night ahead of us, and I won’t have that ruined by you overreacting if you saw how much the bill is.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” Gibby said, grabbing the folder and looking down at it as she opened it up. She then snapped it closed immediately and handed it back to Jazz. “Okay, it was that bad. What the f—”

  Jazz sniffed daintily. “No need for that kind of language.”

  “Now I want to see,” Seth said. He took the folder from Jazz, and Nick looked over his shoulder. When he found the total at the bottom of the receipt, the blood drained from his face.

  Jazz sighed. “See? That’s why I said to let me handle it.”

  “Ireland is going to straight-up murder us,” Nick said, getting riled up. “They’re going to come here with their storied history and their elegant way of speaking and kill us all until there’s nothing left but bone and gristle, and we’ll deserve it.”

  He startled when Seth burst out laughing. He looked over to see Seth wrapping his arms around his stomach, tears leaking from his eyes as he laughed. Nick’s diatribe melted almost immediately at the sight of Seth Gray laughing, laughing, laughing, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe this was his superpower. Forget the ADHD or the telekinesis, at least for a moment. Maybe Nick’s superpower all along had been his ability to make Seth laugh like nothing else mattered. Not a bad power to have, in the long run. And one most people didn’t possess.

  * * *

  They stood in front of the restaurant, bundled up against the cold as they waited for the car to arrive. People moved around them, Gibby standing behind Jazz, her chin hooked over Jazz’s shoulder. Nick and Seth were side by side, their hands joined between them. They spoke of nothing in particular, Nick closing his eyes and letting the sounds of his friends and the city wash over him.

  Something tickled the back of his mind, a light caress from ghostly fingers, familiar and sweet. He opened his eyes, brow furrowed. He looked around. No one was there. He looked up at the buildings that rose above them. Nothing.

  “Nick.”

  He lowered his head. Gibby and Jazz were walking toward a white SUV that had pulled up to the curb. Seth was looking at him, a question on his face. “What’s up?”

  Nick forced a smile. “Nothing. I thought—” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Got lost in my own head.”

  Seth nodded slowly. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Jazz, Gibby, move your butts over because we’re both getting in the back seat with you.”

  As Seth climbed into the SUV, Nick looked around once more.

  Nothing.

  He followed his friends into the SUV.

  * * *

  Centennial High had been transformed. It was still obviously just the cafeteria where they ate lunch every day, but it looked as if it’d been given a makeover involving an entire cadre of dead magicians.

  A banner above the entrance to the cafeteria announced STARRY NIGHTS! WISH UPON THE STARS AND ALL YOUR DREAMS WILL COME TRUE! Nick thought it was a little over the top, but then he’d never been on a prom committee. It absolutely did not help that underneath those words were smaller words that read ALSO FIERY NIGHTS, JUST IN CASE PYRO STORM SHOWS UP!

  Nick glared at the banner as they handed their tickets over to a particularly disgruntled woman who looked like teenage happiness was the bane of her existence. “No drinking,” she told them. “No drugs. No dirty dancing. No fornicating. Keep it clean, keep it safe.”

  “Darn,” Nick said. “What am I going to do with all these tabs of acid that I’m obviously joking about, so please stop rising from your chair like you’re going to kick me out. Oh my god, I was joking. I don’t even know where to get acid.”

  The woman sat back down, glaring at Nick. “No drugs!”

  “He was kidding,” Seth said hastily. “He doesn’t do drugs.”

  “Only the legal kind,” Nick promised her. “That were prescribed by a doctor not associated with Burke Pharmaceuticals. I need them because of my brain.”

  “Stop. Talking,” Gibby growled. “If you get us kicked out before we even go in, I’m going to let Jazz stab you with one of her heels.”

  “Go through security,” the woman barked, waving them away. “No funny business!”

  “Some people can’t take a joke,” Nick mumbled as they got in the line that led toward the cafeteria. At the front of the line were three teachers going through purses and pockets. “Remember when we could go to school without worrying about people wanting to kill us?”

  “No,” Jazz said. “Because I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have to walk through metal detectors in order to get to class.”

  “Or people not liking the color of my skin,” Gibby said.

  When it was finally their turn, Nick didn’t argue as he was patted down (though he did snap to be careful with his suit), watching as Jazz’s purse was riffled through.

  The usual lunch tables had been removed, replaced by round tables covered in tablecloths that shimmered under the strings of lights that had been stretched all around the cafeteria. Atop the tables sat bunches of fake white flowers, each of their petals covered in sequins not unlike those on Nick’s suit. The tables lined one half of the room, the other half left open as a dance floor, though only a few were dancing so far, the DJ against the wall trying to hype everyone up to no avail. The ceiling had been covered with glow-in-the-dark stars, an entire galaxy complete with a wombat constellation, though it looked diseased and was missing a limb. Someone had apparently thought a fog machine was a good idea and white smoke billowed across the floor, swirling as people moved through it.

  Waiters in snappy dress clothes and bow ties moved between the tables, carrying trays of sparkling water and little sandwiches that Nick thought were probably made in the cafeteria.

  The heating system was apparently on full blast, and Nick wiped sweat from his brow as Seth led them toward an empty table near the back, pulling a chair out for Jazz and then one for Gibby, who snorted but didn’t say anything as she sat down next to Jazz.

  Not to be outdone, Nick did the same for Seth, who grinned at him before taking a seat. As Nick sat down, he looked around the cafeteria, trying to see where their parents were so they could actively avoid them at all costs. It was crowded, the sounds of voices and terrible dance music bouncing off the walls around them. Nick thought he saw Bob and Martha against the far wall, but there were too many people to be sure. He was distracted by one of the waiters who moved between the tables, expertly carrying a tray. The man was slim and moved with the grace of a dancer. Nick couldn’t quite make out his face in the low light. He didn’t know why, but the man seemed familiar somehow.

  “What is it?” Seth whispered to him, bringing his attention back to the table.

  “Thought I saw someone I knew,” Nick said. “One of the waiters.”

  Seth turned to look out at the crowd. “Who did you think he was?”

  Nick shrugged. “Don’t know. Probably seeing things. No big deal.”

  “It better not be,” Jazz said, “because I have plans tonight. First, I’m going to dance with Gibby—Seth, you’ll be with Nick. Then we’re going to switch partners and dance with each other. I want at least two dances with the both of you. Gibby, you get more because you’re my girlfriend and I want to get freak
y.”

  “Your mom and dad are here,” Nick reminded her.

  Jazz scoffed. “That’s not my problem. If they didn’t want to see it, then they shouldn’t have come here.”

  “But”—Nick sputtered—“but—your virtue.”

  “Took care of that a long time ago,” Gibby said, leaning back in her chair and grinning smugly. “Broke it into pieces without a twinge of regret.”

  “Speaking of regret,” Nick mumbled. “I’m having a few of those right now for even asking.”

  “As you should,” Jazz said. “Most everyone here is straight. It’s our responsibility as the token queer kids to make sure everyone is slightly uncomfortable to the point where they’ll need to have an honest conversation with themselves about their biases.”

  They stared at her.

  “What?” she asked. “Do I have something on my face?” She reached into her purse, pulled out a compact, and snapped it open. She pursed her lips at her reflection. “Nope. I look amazing, as expected.” She put the compact back in her purse. “What about the two of you?”

  “What about us?” Seth asked.

  Jazz sighed as if she couldn’t deal with the stupidity of boys. “Are you two going to … you know.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  Confused, Nick asked, “Going to what?”

  Gibby turned her face toward the ceiling. “It’s like we’re dealing with puppies. Sweet, dumb little puppies.”

  “Nick,” Jazz said. “We’ve talked about this. Tonight is a magical night. Perhaps you and Seth will be slow dancing, and then he’ll lean closer, and you’ll lean closer and whisper—”

  “Oh my god,” Nick said loudly. “Are you talking about the sex?”

  The occupants of the tables closest to them turned and looked at them.

  Seth waved at them. “Hey. Having a good night? Us too. Obviously.”

  Panicking, Nick blurted, “My dad made a dad joke when he gave me condoms and I don’t know how to feel about that. Like, mad? But also, a little proud? Because it shows the measure of a person to commit to a bit that hard. Also, that was a pun because of hard and sex and—”

  “Your dad gave you condoms?” Seth said, face going pale. “Does he know what they’re for?”

  “Oof,” Gibby said. “I really don’t want to be here for this conversation.”

  “Of course he does,” Nick said. “They’re for making my life a living hell, just so he can get his kicks. They’re in my pocket right now. I’ll show you.”

  Seth grabbed his arm as Nick started to dig through his pocket. “Don’t. We believe you. You don’t need to show us condoms—and notice I’m not even asking why you have them.”

  “That’s what I said. We’re both virgins. You’re not going to give me HPV, and even if you did, roughly eighty percent of sexually active people have it, and we could seek treatment togeth—”

  Seth sighed. “Not what I meant, Nicky.”

  “Yeah,” Gibby said. “I don’t want to leave anymore. This is fine.” She leaned forward, chin resting on her hands as she stared at Nick. “Keep going, Nicky. Did he give you lube too? Because you’re not going to get too far without—”

  “Just because you can make your own doesn’t mean you need to relish in my discomfort,” Nick snapped. Then, “Wow. I wish I hadn’t said that.”

  Gibby squinted at him. “You really don’t know anything about female anatomy, do you?”

  “Of course not! I’m a gay man! Why the hell would I need to know about how you can—mmph!”

  “Nope,” Seth said, covering Nick’s mouth with his hand. “Not today, not ever. Gibby, stop it. You’re doing this on purpose.”

  “Try and prove it, Gray,” Gibby said, her smile growing entirely too evil for Nick’s liking.

  “Dancing!” Jazz said shrilly. “There’s going to be dancing, and whatever happens after will be between two consenting people, or it doesn’t need to happen at all.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Gibby said gleefully. “Nick brought a condom, after all.”

  “I know how to make dental dams!” Nick announced rather hysterically. “My dad taught me! He—”

  “—is coming over here!” Seth hissed, blood draining from his face. “Please stop talking about condoms and dental dams before he hears you!”

  Nick whirled around in time to see Dad pushing his way through the crowd. When he saw Nick looking at him, he waved. “Nick! Hey, Nick! It’s me, your dad! Your father! The man who helped create you!”

  “Oh my god,” Nick moaned, turning back around and slumping in his chair as if that would help. “My life is over.”

  “Nah,” Gibby said. “It’s not like you had much of a life to begin with.”

  “Just you wait,” Nick warned her. “You and Jazz are going to be getting freaky and your parents will be right there, watching your lesbian mating dance. They’ll probably even be taking pictures.”

  Gibby made a face. “Not cool, Nicky.”

  Before Nick could retort, Dad appeared at the table, looking far too pleased with himself. “Hey, didn’t you hear me shouting for you? You looked right at me. Wasn’t sure if you heard me or not.”

  “I heard you,” Nick muttered. “Everyone heard you.”

  “Good,” Dad said, patting Nick on the shoulder. “Then my job here is done.”

  “Which means you can probably leave, right?” Nick asked hopefully. “No need to stay any longer. You’re old, which means you need sleep. Why don’t you head on home and take the rest of the night off.”

  “Sorry, kid,” Dad said. “I take this chaperone thing very seriously. We even got a ten-minute speech about what to watch out for and everything. Can’t walk away from that.” He plucked a glass from the tray of a passing waiter, raising it to his nose and sniffing. “Good. Hasn’t been spiked, as far as I can tell. Don’t take a drink and then leave it unattended. That’s how they’ll get you. Seth, you look like you’re about to pass out. You all right?”

  “Dad.”

  “Nick,” Dad said in the same tone. “Yeah, yeah. I wanted to say hi. You won’t even see me for the rest of the night.” He smiled at Seth. “But I’ll be seeing you. You can bet on that.” He laughed as he ruffled Nick’s hair before disappearing back into the crowd.

  “He knows,” Seth moaned. “He knows about the condoms.”

  “Well, yeah,” Gibby said. “He’s the one who gave them to Nick—which, I mean, I get the whole safe sex thing, but that feels like a boundary that shouldn’t have been crossed. You guys have a weird relationship. Full offense.”

  “He’s trying,” Nick said as he deflated. “Maybe a little too hard. He thinks he needs to make up for all the crap we’ve been through.”

  “Is it working?” Jazz asked.

  Nick wasn’t sure. He hoped so, but he wasn’t there yet. “I don’t know.” He looked at Gibby and Jazz. “How’re things going with your parents?”

  “Nice deflection, Nicky,” Jazz said. She glanced at Gibby. “It’s going. My parents are still a little—I don’t know—starstruck, I guess, about what Seth can do.”

  “Mine are still pissed,” Gibby admitted. “I think the support group helped a little, though. Dad said that Nick’s father seemed to be listening to him and Mom. He’s angry, but—”

  “Can you blame him?” Nick asked. “Because I can’t.”

  Gibby arched an eyebrow. “You’ve seemed to have done an about-face with the whole cop thing.”

  Nick picked at the tablecloth as he muttered, “Better late than never.” He sighed. “No, that’s not good enough. It shouldn’t have taken this long. I have, like, years of hero worship to dismantle and work through that has nothing to do with Extraordinaries. I thought … I thought it was black and white, you know? Good guys, bad guys, a divide between them. I’m trying to figure out how to handle what happens when the good guys are the bad guys. I’m getting there, but it’s harder than I expected it to be.” He looked up at Gibby. “He’s my dad, you know? It’s
confusing. I’m angry with him, but I also want to believe that he can still make things right.”

  “I hope so, Nicky,” Gibby said quietly.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Seth told them. “We have to, because it’s the only way we’ll make it through this.”

  “And it’ll still be waiting for us tomorrow,” Jazz said. “Tonight is about us.” A new song began to play, some pop mess that grated on Nick’s ears. Jazz, however, lit up, grabbing Gibby’s hand and rising from her chair. “I love this song! We’re going to go dance. Coming?”

  Seth said, “We’ll be there in a minute. I want to talk to Nick.”

  Jazz nodded, pulling Gibby toward the dance floor. Nick and Seth watched as Jazz threw her hands around Gibby’s neck, pulling her close and rolling her hips expertly. Gibby bent forward, pressing her forehead against Jazz’s, moving back and forth with the beat.

  “I can’t dance like that,” Nick told Seth. “I think the bones in my hips are fused together, so—keep that in mind.”

  “Condoms,” Seth blurted.

  Nick turned slowly to look at him. “Uh—yes? What about them?”

  Seth fidgeted in his chair. “Do … do you want to use them?”

  Oh. Oh. Crap. Not where Nick thought this was going to go. And since Seth looked like he was borderline panicking, it was up to Nick to remain calm and levelheaded. Which is why he said (like a goddamn boss), “You want some of the Nick Experience?”

  Seth gaped at him.

  Nick winced. “That sounded a lot better in my head.”

  “Did it?” Seth asked. “Did it really?”

  Nick took a deep breath, letting it out slow. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

  That didn’t seem to placate Seth in the slightest, especially since he began to pop his knuckles, something he only did when he was nervous. “What do you want?”

  “I … don’t know? Which might be an answer in and of itself.” Nick stopped Seth from attempting to break his own hands. “Hey. Look at me.”

  Seth did, eyes wide.

  Nick grinned at him. “We don’t have to do anything we’re not ready for. And even if one of us is ready, that doesn’t mean the other has to be. This isn’t a one-time thing. We’ve got the rest of our lives to figure it all out, so why worry about it now?”