The Extraordinaries

by TJ Klune

  “All that flooding,” Nick repeated.

  “Right.”

  “So you kissed me.”

  “On the cheek. You’re acting like I stuck my tongue down your—”

  “Whoa,” Nick gasped. “I wasn’t acting like that at all.”

  Seth paled. He must have been really sick. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

  Then a thought struck Nick that made him frown. “Do you go around kissing a lot of people?”

  “What? No!”

  “What about the secret girlfriend and/or boyfriend you have?”

  Seth groaned. “I don’t have a secret girlfriend and/or boyfriend. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “Many more times,” Nick said. “Because I don’t believe you. I know I can be dumb about a lot of things, but you can’t expect me to believe that you were at the animal shelter volunteering all summer.”

  Seth said, “I was. There was a shortage of volunteers, and I had to do my part!”

  “For the animals.”

  “Exactly.”

  Nick was starting to get a little annoyed. “Why, though? I get that it’s the right thing to do because cats and dogs are cool and all, but do they need you all the time? I mean, there was a flooding problem, and you were the one they called? It’s like they own you.” Then Nick was struck with another thought. “Do they own you? Is there some kind of secret ASPCA no-kill-shelter mafia that you belong to now? Have they bugged you? Are they listening right now?” He glared up at the biplane, sure it was the perfect place to hide a recording device.

  “Oh my god. How the hell did you get from volunteering to the mafia?”

  “It’s best not to question such things,” Nick said. “And I notice you didn’t deny it. If we need to get you to a safe house, cough once. I don’t actually have a safe house, but I have forty dollars in singles under my mattress, and that should be enough for one of those hotels downtown that rent by the hour.”

  “Nicky, there’s no mafia.”

  “Maybe that’s what they want you to—”

  “Nick,” Seth said through gritted teeth, and that shut Nick right up. Because Seth, tolerant and wonderful Seth, looked exasperated. Nick had seen it before, though never on Seth’s face. He’d gotten it from teachers. He’d gotten it from other kids. He’d gotten it from random strangers. It was the look. Like Nick had spoken too much. Or had gone too far. Or had said something so stupid and crazy and out there that it was impossible to understand how such words could have come out of a normal, sane person. Yeah, Nick had gotten that look from many, many people in his life, but never from those he loved.

  Until today.

  Dad. Seth. The two people he counted on most.

  He didn’t know how to handle that. It hurt in ways he wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t like he could help it, and maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he made too big a deal out of everything. And maybe, just maybe, Seth was getting tired of it.

  “Um,” Nick said, unsure of what to do. His hands were shaking, so he rubbed them on his jeans. “I didn’t mean…”

  Seth let out a sharp huff of air. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now, you need to stop. It’s not bad.”

  Which was exactly what someone would say when it was bad. “Maybe I should just go home.” That sounded good. He could go home and shut himself in his room. He could do his homework and be a good son, and maybe when Seth was feeling better, they could forget all about this.

  Nick shouldn’t have eaten all those cookies.

  “I don’t want you to—” Seth sat up in the bed. As he did, the comforter sank lower to his chest. He was wearing a white undershirt, and for a moment, Nick was distracted by how strong his chest looked, how sharp his collarbones were, but then he saw the bruise on Seth’s neck, a purple thing that almost looked like—

  “Is that a hickey?” Nick asked, voice high-pitched.

  Seth quickly brought his hand up to cover the bruise, but it was large, and the edges still peeked out beneath his fingers. Either someone had attached their really large mouth to Seth’s neck, or he’d gotten hurt, somehow. “It’s not a hickey.”

  “What happened? Are you okay? Does it hurt? Can I touch it?”

  Seth flushed. “You can’t touch—it’s fine. It’s nothing. Just … hurt myself. Down in the basement.”

  Nick nodded solemnly. “Because of the washing machine. Your aunt told me that it was on the fritz.”

  “Yes. Exactly. I was trying to fix the washing machine. The motor is broken.”

  “I thought she said it was the filtering valve?”

  “Uh. That’s what I meant. The filtering valve is broken.”

  “Oh.”

  Seth sighed again. “Nick, look. There isn’t any no-kill-shelter mafia. There’s no secret girlfriend and/or boyfriend.” He paused for a moment, took a deep breath and said, “And I’m sorry I kissed you on the cheek. I shouldn’t have done that. I know you don’t—”

  “It’s okay,” Nick said hastily, not wanting Seth to take it back completely. Right? Right. “It just … surprised me. You’ve never done that before.”

  Seth looked down at his hands. “Well, maybe I haven’t had a reason to.”

  Nick felt like he was on fire. “And you do now?”

  Seth shrugged. “There’s … things. About me. Things I haven’t told you. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I wanted … I didn’t know how you would see me. After.”

  “What things?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  That almost sounded like an insult, but Nick kept the hurt from his face. “Why?”

  Seth looked back up with a fierce expression. It was familiar, though Nick couldn’t place why. “You’ve got this idea about what it means to be an Extraordinary. You think it’s a gift that will solve everything. But it won’t. You don’t have any idea what it does to a person, and how much easier it’d be to let it all go. To just let the bad things happen. But you can’t.”

  “I would never do that,” Nick snapped. “When I become an Extraordinary, I’m gonna do good for everyone. I wouldn’t ever want it to go away.”

  Seth laughed bitterly. “You say that now. Just wait until—”

  “I know you never wanted it,” Nick said, standing up from the bed. His head almost hit the biplane. “Not like I do. And that’s okay. That’s your choice. This is mine.”

  “Why? Why do you want this?”

  Nick shook his head. “I’ve told you this before.”

  “Right. Because of Shadow Star. Because you think he’s this person you’ve built up in your head. What if he’s nothing like you think he is? What if all you’re going to get is disappointment?”

  “No,” Nick said, taking a step back. “It’s not—okay, it was like that. And maybe part of it still is. Because he’s amazing and brave, and no one can tell me otherwise. Just because you can’t do what he does, doesn’t mean you get to talk crap about him.”

  “What changed? Why do you want to be one now?”

  Nick’s skin was itching. It felt like his brain was leaking out his ears. “For the people. To keep them safe. Shadow Star can’t do it all on his own, right? He needs my help. If I can do that, if I can really help him, that’ll help Nova City, and then it’ll help my dad. And then maybe he won’t hate the way I am now.”

  Seth looked shocked. “Nick, your dad doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t hate anything about you.”

  Nick’s fingers were twitching. “Sure seemed like it this morning when he asked me why I had to be the way I was.”

  “Are you sure that’s what he said? You have a tendency to … exaggerate things.”

  Nick really wanted to go home now. The walls were closing in, and his thoughts were jumbled and angry. “Great. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He scooped his backpack up from the floor. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

  But before he could turn toward the door, Seth tried to get out of the bed. He swu
ng his legs out from underneath the comforter. Nick hadn’t been wrong. Seth was wearing boots. And sweats that clung to his legs. And the undershirt that was tight against his chest and shoulders. Seth groaned, clutching a hand around his stomach, gritting his teeth.

  Nick took a step back. This wasn’t the Seth he knew. The Seth he knew was chubby and wore sweaters and bow ties and sometimes stuck his tongue out between his teeth when he was concentrating really hard. He was resilient and dependable and made Nick feel important.

  This Seth looked strong, even though he also looked like he was hurting. The muscles in his arms bunched as he gripped his stomach, breathing through his nose. He looked like he hadn’t exactly lost weight—except in his face—but more so that it’d been redistributed and possibly turned to muscle.

  Nick didn’t know what to do with that, especially since his brain seemed to have shorted out. “You’re buff,” he said stupidly. “Why are you buff?”

  Seth chuckled through gritted teeth. “Hard work.”

  “Why didn’t I notice?” Nick asked.

  “Maybe because you don’t always see things that are right in front of you.”

  That stung more than Nick thought it would. Because all he could hear in that was Dad asking him why he had to be the way he was. “That’s not fair. You know how my head is—”

  “Oh, I know,” Seth said. “I know exactly how your head is. But it can’t be an excuse, Nick. Not forever. You want to be an Extraordinary? Fine. There’s a bus filled with kids that’s about to fall off a bridge. There’s an apartment building ten miles away that’s on fire and about to collapse filled with people who can’t escape on their own. Who do you save?”

  “I don’t … that’s not—”

  Seth looked up at him, eyes blazing. “Who do you save, Nick? You want to help the city, right? That’s what you said. You want to help the city. The people. Your dad. Who do you save?”

  “I would help one,” Nick said. “And Shadow Star would help the others. That way everyone is okay, and no one would get hurt. And maybe I’d even convince Pyro Storm to help put out the fire, because he can’t be all bad—”

  “Funny how that works,” Seth muttered. He shook his head. “You have faith, Nick. That’s good. But it’s not going to be enough.”

  Nick bristled. “What the hell, man? All I wanted was to come over here and check on you—”

  “Even though I told you to stay away—”

  “—and now you’ve got bruises and muscles and you’re wearing boots in bed—”

  “It’s my house. I can do what I want.”

  “—and you’re trying to quiz me or something, and you’re talking crap about Shadow Star who is the greatest Extraordinary alive. And maybe you don’t want me to be like him. Or Pyro Storm. Maybe you’re just jealous about—”

  Seth’s laugh was almost hysterical. “Jealous? About Extraordinaries? That’s not even…” He tilted his head. “Huh. That actually makes a lot of sense.”

  Nick wasn’t expecting that. “It does? I mean, of course it does. You’re just jealous that … that, um. Okay, wait. Why are you jealous?”

  Seth looked up at him again. That same strange glint was in his eyes. “I’m right here, you know? I have been. For a long time.”

  Nick was confused. “I know.”

  “And then there was Owen, and you—”

  “Made a sexy but regrettable mistake,” Nick admitted. “I blame teenage hormones and this thing he could do with his tongue.” He grimaced. “That makes me sound terrible.”

  “And now you’ve got this stupid crush on Shadow Star.”

  “Don’t,” Nick snapped. “It’s not stupid, okay? He saved me, and he knows who I am without me having to tell him, which means he might like me or something, and even if he doesn’t, I can show him that I can be—”

  “Who is he, Nick?”

  That stopped Nick right in his tracks. “What?”

  Seth stared at him intently. “Who is he? He’s Shadow Star. But who is he behind his mask?”

  “That doesn’t matter to me.”

  “It might if you find out. It might change everything. What if it were me?”

  Nicholas Bell did what was possibly the stupidest thing in a short, short life filled with many stupid things. He didn’t mean to, of course. It was a knee-jerk reaction. He didn’t think he could have stopped it even if he’d tried.

  He laughed. He laughed, because the idea of Seth of all people being Shadow Star was so preposterous, he couldn’t even fathom it.

  Seth’s expression hardened.

  “I’m sorry,” Nick gasped, trying to fight it down but failing quite spectacularly. “You’re Seth. There’s no way you could—I mean, that’s dumb. Come on, man. Don’t do that. You don’t need to be him. You’re fine the way you are. And besides, it’s not like you would keep that a secret from me, right? I mean, if you were Shadow Star, you’d tell me. It’s just … dumb.”

  Seth nodded tightly. “Right. Dumb. Of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  Nick flailed. The conversation had spun out of control. “Oh, hey. Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. You’re my favorite person in the whole world next to my dad. You know that, right? You’re not dumb.”

  “Just the idea of me being an Extraordinary is.”

  Nick felt like he was on ice, and it was cracking beneath his feet. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

  “I kissed your cheek.”

  Nick felt his face grow warm again. “I … yeah.”

  Seth looked away. “You should go.”

  Nick blinked. “Wait, what? What did I do? Are you mad at me?”

  Seth smiled tightly. “I just want to be by myself. Sick, remember? Can’t have you catching it.”

  “We still need to talk about me becoming—”

  “Please. Just … go.”

  Since Nick was helpless when Seth said please, he turned and left. Before he closed the door, he looked over his shoulder. Seth sat on his bed, face in his hands.

  He left, shutting the door.

  * * *

  Bob was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He wore a pair of overalls stained with grease. He looked older than Nick remembered, the lines around his eyes and mouth deeper. His hair hung in white wisps around his face. Nate could hear Martha moving in the kitchen.

  “Nicky,” Bob said, his voice a deep rumble. “Everything okay?”

  No, it really wasn’t. He shook his head.

  “Heard some raised voices.”

  Nick winced. “Sorry about that. Just a frank exchange of ideas.”

  “You boys okay?”

  Nick didn’t know if they were or not. He couldn’t even be sure what they’d argued about. He just knew he was mad at pretty much everyone, mostly for nonsensical reasons. He wasn’t sure if that included Seth. “I’m sorry to tell you that your nephew is a jerk.” Okay, so maybe it did include Seth.

  Bob barely reacted. “He’s a teenager. That’s to be expected.”

  “But I might be one too.”

  “A teenager or a jerk?”

  Nick liked Bob a lot. “Both.”

  Bob nodded slowly. “Seems like things are changing.”

  “Tell me about it,” Nick muttered, pulling on one of the straps to his backpack. “When did Seth get biceps?”

  Bob chuckled. “Noticed that, did you? Growing up, I guess.”

  “That’s not fair. He gets muscles, and I get a little mustache that makes me look like I should be wearing a trench coat and flashing people.”

  “That was … oddly specific.”

  Nick sighed. “I tend to do that.”

  “You’ll come into yours,” Bob said, patting him on the shoulder. “He’s going through a lot right now. More than you could possibly know.”

  “Why won’t he just tell me?” Nick asked, suddenly exhausted. “I’m his best friend. He can tell me anything. It’s how we’ve always been.”

  “Can he?” Bob
asked. “Maybe he needs to hear that from you.”

  Oof. That was pointed, but fair. “I try to be a good friend. But sometimes, other stuff comes up. I get stuck in my own head and forget what I should be doing instead of what I want to be doing.”

  “That’s how life goes. Things happen. It’s difficult. Sometimes, people drift apart. They get set upon different paths. Doesn’t mean they care about each other any less.”

  Nick stared at him in horror. “That’s not going to happen. I’m going to be with Seth forever.”

  Bob’s lips twitched. “How … expected. And if he said the same to you?”

  Nick blushed furiously. “I. Um. That would be. Neat?”

  “Oh, so I guess the fact that he’s in love with you would—”

  “Robert Gray!” Martha said furiously, coming out of the kitchen, a dish towel in her hands. “You close those flapping lips of yours right this second.”

  Bob scowled at her. “Someone needs to say it. Aren’t you tired of all the pining? You’re lucky I didn’t tell him about how Seth is—”

  She slapped the dish towel over his mouth while glaring up at him.

  He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  They looked at Nick.

  Nick, who was in the middle of a full system shutdown.

  “Oh dear,” Martha said as she pulled the dish towel away. “I think you’ve broken him.”

  Bob poked Nick on the cheek. “Imagine how he’d react if I told him the other thing.”

  “Robert Gray.”

  His eyes were twinkling when he said, “Probably a good idea just to keep it at one thing at a time.”

  “Why, you old rascal. You’re gonna get it, I promise.”

  “I should hope so,” Bob said, kissing her cheek.

  Three minutes later, Nick found himself standing on the porch of the Gray brownstone, a plate of cookies in his hand, the door closing behind him after Martha told him to come back as soon as he could.

  It took him at least ten more minutes before he was able to somehow make his legs work again.

  He didn’t remember much about the walk home.

  11

  It’s well known that regardless of what else they are, teenage boys are inherently stupid.