The Extraordinaries

by TJ Klune

  “I assume that Phase Three is better than One or Two,” Gibby said through a mouthful of what appeared to be peanut butter and strawberry jam.

  “It is,” Nick said, shoving Owen away after he flicked his ear. “It’s the best phase. Everyone says so.”

  “Who is everyone?” Jazz asked.

  Nick ignored her. He didn’t have time for things like facts. “I plan on implementing Phase Three this Saturday, and I expect all of you to be there. This could potentially be one of the most significant experiences of my life, and I will need your support when I make the transition from normal to Extraordinary.”

  “How is this going to be any different than the other times?” Gibby asked.

  “Because it will,” Nick insisted. “The other phases were all child’s play compared to this. Phase Three is the big one.”

  “What are you going to do?” Seth asked. Nick looked over at him, and then sighed inwardly when Seth turned away almost immediately.

  “It’s a surprise,” Nick said. “Trust me, though. This time it’ll work.”

  “Is it illegal?” Owen asked. “Because if it is, I am totally down.”

  Nick glared at him. “No, it’s not illegal. My dad’s a cop. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “You were looking up plans to break into a nuclear power plant,” Jazz reminded him.

  “Right, but I didn’t do it. It’s one thing to think of doing something illegal, but it’s another to actually do it.”

  “Your moral compass might need some fine-tuning,” Gibby told him. “Just for the record.”

  Nick waved a hand dismissively at her. “Whatever. The point is that I’ve got the most perfect plan of all plans. You need to be there. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Jazz said, because she was amazing.

  “Fine,” Gibby said, sounding bored. She was slightly less amazing.

  “Maybe,” Owen said, because he was a jerk. “If nothing better comes up.”

  Nick turned to Seth, who was picking at a smashed sandwich. “Seth?”

  Seth shrugged. “If you think it’s right.”

  “Maybe try that with a little more enthusiasm.”

  Seth scowled a little harder. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “Good,” Nick said brightly, clapping his hands. “Then let Phase Three commence!” Then, “Well, not right this second. Because we still have school. And it’s not Saturday. So.”

  * * *

  “Nick!”

  Nick turned to see Seth rushing toward him down the steps. He’d been waiting for his friends after the last bell before they headed for the train. Nick looked behind Seth to see if Gibby or Jazz were coming, but Seth was alone.

  “Hey,” he said. “Where is everyone?”

  Seth stopped in front of him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um. They’re … not here.”

  “I can see that. Thank you for stating the obvious.”

  Seth sighed. “It’s just us today.”

  “Oh. Okay. That’s … great.” It wasn’t great. Or maybe it was the greatest. Nick was instantly covered in flop sweat. Was this like a date? Seth loved him, and Nick … felt some way toward him back, and it was just the two of them, and what if Seth wanted to go get something to eat? At a restaurant? Nick probably had four dollars in his wallet. And maybe, like, forty cents. Skwinkles Salsagheti had ended up costing more than he thought it would, but it was totally okay. Maybe they could get tacos or something. One taco. For the both of them. “We’ll have to split it right down the middle,” Nick said, slightly panicked.

  “Split what?”

  Nick forgot that Seth couldn’t read his mind. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing at all. Gosh, it’s certainly a nice day out today!”

  “You okay?”

  What a loaded question. “Yes?”

  “Good,” Seth said. “Come on.”

  Oh no. This was a date.

  * * *

  It wasn’t a date.

  It was just two bros walking side by side down the sidewalk. They’d done it a billion times before. Sure, they’d never done it after Seth’s uncle had flapped his lips, but still. Two bros doing bro stuff.

  “Just being bros,” Nick said aloud.

  Seth stared at him strangely. “You’re acting weird.”

  Nick shrugged and looked away. “It’s been a very weird forty-eight hours.”

  “Yeah? How come?”

  Nick liked that. He liked that a lot. Because regardless of what else was going on between them, regardless of how uneven their footing, Seth gave a damn. He always had. “Had a fight with my dad.”

  “You told me. Sucks.”

  “Yeah. And I didn’t take my pill this morning.”

  “I thought as much. You’re a little more jittery than normal.”

  Nick sighed. “I dunno. I was mad, and he bought me Cinnamon Bread-Shaped Chomps because that’s how he says sorry, and I ate it, but I still wasn’t in a forgiving mood, so I didn’t do anything about it.”

  “Is this about what he said?”

  Nick looked away, unable to answer, Dad’s voice still ringing in his head.

  “Is that why…” Seth shook his head.

  “Is that why what?”

  Seth swallowed thickly. “Is that why yesterday you—I don’t know. You were agitated. We didn’t leave things okay.”

  “Maybe. I’m sorry I acted like a jerk. I’m glad you feel better.”

  “Yeah,” Seth said, and actually looked up at Nick. “I’m feeling okay now.” Then, “Did my uncle say something to you?”

  A bright flare of panic roared through Nick, and he said, “Not really. I barely saw him.”

  “That’s … that’s good.”

  “Yeah. Oh, hey, look. Train’s on time. Hurry up!”

  He could barely ignore the stuttering thumpthumpthump of his heart.

  * * *

  It didn’t help, later, when they were sitting side by side on the train, that Seth opened his backpack and pulled out the package of Skwinkles Salsagheti. “I thought maybe we could, you know. Share them.”

  This was totally maybe a date. Right?

  Nick cleared his throat. “Uh. Sure. That would be—that’s cool.”

  “Okay. I’ve never had these before.”

  “Me either.”

  “They look … edible?”

  “They’re probably sour,” Nick said. “Mom spent time in Mexico when she was a kid. She said a lot of the candy is sour there.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah. Grandma and Grandpa went there to help build houses or something. She was there for almost a year.”

  “That’s why she was good at Spanish?”

  Nick nodded, pleased Seth had remembered. “Yeah. She said the best way to learn a language is to be immersed in it. You don’t have a choice otherwise.”

  “She was pretty great.”

  Her memory still hurt, but it had lost its sharp edges. “I think so too.”

  Seth handed him a strand of Salsagheti. “Supposed to be watermelon-flavored.”

  “You want me to go first?”

  Seth smiled quietly at him. “Same time?”

  “Okay.” Nick tilted his head back, holding the candy dangling over his mouth. He glanced over, and Seth was doing the same. “Ready? One. Two. Three.”

  Nick had been right. It was sour. Edible, but sour.

  He tilted his head forward in time to see Seth’s eyes bulging, his face screwed up in a grimace, a piece of Salsagheti hanging out of his mouth. “So good,” Seth managed to say, though he sounded like he was dying.

  “Oh my god,” Nick said, laughing at him. “You hate it!”

  “I don’t hate it. I just wasn’t expecting it to taste like that.”

  “Like what?”

  Seth swallowed it down. “Like it murdered my mouth.”

  Nick bumped his shoulder. Seth bumped back.

  Maybe it wasn’t a date.

  But it was still good.

  * *
*

  Good, that is, until Seth didn’t show on Saturday when they were supposed to meet. Neither did Owen, but Seth was the one Nick had been looking for. The past couple of days had been better, and Nick thought he and Seth were getting back to where they belonged. Nick’s dad was still acting distant, and Nick had managed to avoid taking his pills for three days running, but things were mostly okay. He had a headache, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Yes, his toothpaste tube had exploded for absolutely no reason this morning, but that was not going to ruin what was probably going to be the most important day of his life.

  “Maybe he’s just behind schedule,” Jazz said as Nick looked down at his phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. “The trains don’t run as often on the weekends. One of the lines could be delayed.”

  “Then why isn’t he texting back?” Nick asked, brow furrowed.

  “I don’t know, Nicky.”

  “Whatever it is,” Gibby said, “I’m sure he has a good reason. You know that, right? He’s not blowing you off or anything.”

  “Like he did all summer?”

  Gibby sighed. “It wasn’t—he was busy, Nicky. We all get busy. You know that. It doesn’t mean he wants to be with you any less. It happens, sometimes.”

  Nick knew he was being unreasonable. Gibby was right. It did happen, sometimes. It seemed to be happening more and more lately, but that was nothing in the face of all the years that Seth had been there for him. So what if this was one of the biggest moments of Nick’s life and Seth had promised? No big deal.

  “You’ve got your grumpy face,” Jazz told him.

  “It’s not grumpy,” he said grumpily.

  “We can wait a little bit longer,” Gibby said. “He could still show. In the meantime, why don’t you tell us why we’re at the river? I gotta tell you, Nick. This place reeks like death.”

  And it did. The Westfield River was disgusting. He’d had them meet him at one of the piers, but away from the ones that had all the tourists. In the distance, he could see a couple of old guys fishing off a dock who probably never actually caught anything, instead dropping their lines in the water and gabbing. The river was polluted to the point where anything actually caught would not be edible.

  Which was exactly why Nick was here.

  He climbed up onto a wooden post and faced the river, hands on his hips as he posed grandly, a gentle breeze blowing against his face carrying the scent of rancid farts and spoiled meat, but he ignored it, because this was his moment. This was his time to shine.

  “Phase Three,” he announced, sure that Gibby and Jazz had the same shivers down their spines as he did. How could they not? They were about to witness something (dare he say it) extraordinary.

  There was silence from behind him.

  He knew it was sinking in. He gave them a moment.

  Still more silence.

  He looked over his shoulder.

  Gibby and Jazz were staring at him.

  He stared back.

  Jazz sneezed. “Excuse me,” she said daintily.

  Nick was not impressed. He glared at them both.

  “Oh!” Gibby said. “I get it now.” She cleared her throat. “Phase Three? Why, whatever could you be speaking of?”

  “That was really good,” Jazz told her.

  “I know,” Gibby said.

  At least they were sort of trying. “I’m glad you asked!” He turned back toward the river, raising his voice so they wouldn’t miss a word. “Today, you are going to witness something—”

  A phone chimed behind him. Nick closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.

  “My bad,” Jazz said. “My dad. Gotta … text him back … and … done. Go ahead and continue with whatever you’re doing.”

  Nick took another moment before he opened his eyes. No big deal. “Today, you are going to wit—”

  Another phone beeped. “Wow,” Gibby said. “Talk about some weird timing. That was me this time. Sorry. Sorry. I think it’s a wrong number. They’re asking if the 1997 Toyota Camry is still for sale.”

  “What’s a 1997 Toyota Camry?” Jazz asked, sounding confused.

  “Something you’ll never understand,” Gibby told her. “Gonna tell them it’s a wrong number and … okay, we’re good!”

  Third time’s the charm. “Today, you are going to witness something amazing.” He waited a moment. No phone beeped. Good. He was about to blow some minds. “Phase Three is here, and I’m going to—”

  Another phone chimed.

  Nick whirled around, a snarl on his face.

  Or, at least he tried to whirl around. Given that he was standing on a wooden pylon, there wasn’t enough room to do much. And given that Nick—on a good day—was not exactly the most graceful of creatures, he started to fall backward into the river.

  He was saved when Gibby grabbed him by the front of his coat and pulled him forward. He almost landed on top of her when he fell off the pylon, but somehow managed to land on his feet.

  “You idiot,” she muttered as she took a step back. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Phones off!” he cried. “Everyone turn your phones off right this second! You kids these days with your texts and snaps and tweets! I will not be interrupted again.”

  “That was your phone this time,” Jazz told him.

  Nick blinked. “No, it wasn’t.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Oh. Would you look at that. It was. Ha ha ha. How weird.”

  Jazz’s phone beeped.

  And then Gibby’s.

  He thought about grabbing them and chucking them into the river, but figured he would get kicked in the testicles, so he decided against it.

  He looked at his own phone again. An alert:

  EXTRAORDINARY ACTIVITY. SHADOW STAR AND PYRO STORM ARE NEAR BURKE TOWER.

  “Why?” he moaned. “Why does this have to be happening now?”

  “I wonder why they’re fighting again?” Jazz asked. “They seem to be at each other’s throats more and more lately.”

  Gibby looked troubled. “I don’t know. But someone’s going to get hurt.”

  Nick made the hardest decision of his life. Instead of trying to find a livestream of what was going on with Shadow Star, he silenced his phone and put it back in his pocket. “It doesn’t matter. At least not right this second. If Phase Three works like I think it will, then I’ll be in a position to help Shadow Star take down Pyro Storm. And then we’ll become friends, which will tentatively lead toward something more. There will be shy hesitation, but then one day, after saving Nova City from a madman who wants to turn the entire city to ice, there will be kissing and butt stuff and we’ll live happily ever after.”

  Jazz and Gibby stared at him.

  Nick shifted his weight from foot to foot.

  “That was … detailed,” Jazz finally said.

  Gibby cocked her head. “Are you okay, Nicky?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re twitchier than normal.”

  Oh yeah. That certainly seemed to be the case. His body was thrumming, and his thoughts were jumping more than usual. He told himself he was just filled with nervous energy, that today was exciting, and that it had nothing to do with being borderline desperate. This was going to work, and he knew it, which explained why he kept tapping his fingers against his thigh. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he was three days past the last dose of Concentra. His head was pounding, but it was fine.

  “I’m good,” Nick told them quickly, wanting to get back on track. “You don’t need to worry about me. Phase Three. Prepare to be amazed!”

  “What is it?” Jazz asked. “And can it happen within the next five minutes? Because I have a fencing lesson this afternoon, and I want a scone beforehand.”

  “You and your pre-fencing scones,” Gibby said fondly. “It’s adorable.”

  It really was adorable, but Nick didn’t want to get distracted again. He reached into his po
cket and pulled out the thing that was going to ensure that today was the last day he’d be normal and boring. After this moment, he was going to be an Extraordinary, and everything would be awesome.

  “Ta da!” he said rather frantically, opening his hand and showing Jazz and Gibby his secret weapon.

  “Ooh,” Jazz said. “Pretty.”

  Gibby squinted at the object that lay in his hand. “Why do you have drag queen jewelry? Are you going to be a drag queen? I mean, I’m all for however you want to express yourself, but Nick, I gotta say, I don’t know if you’ve got the legs for it.”

  Nick didn’t know whether to be offended or not. His legs weren’t that bad. “It’s not drag queen jewelry!”

  “Are you sure? Because it’s either from a drag queen, or you found a prop for a historically inaccurate big-budget movie about ancient Egyptians where all the characters are played by white people.”

  “What are you even—it’s a decoder ring.” He looked down at it. “I mean, yes, it’s big and has a gaudy ruby set in what looks like an oversized sun that covers, like, three of my knuckles, but look at these symbols on the side!” He showed them the hieroglyphs carved into the band of the ring.

  “That’s not a ruby,” Jazz told him, not unkindly.

  “How do you know?”

  She shrugged. “My mom has a lot of rubies. What you have there is a rhinestone.”

  “Ooh,” Nick breathed. “A rhinestone. So it comes from the Rhine River that begins in the Swiss canton of Graubünden in the southeastern part of the Swiss Alps? Wow. I never thought it would be so international. That makes it even more special.”

  “What the hell?” Gibby said faintly. “You know about the Rhine but you don’t know what a rhinestone is? I can’t even with you right now. Nick, it’s fake. A rhinestone is costume jewelry. You know, like drag queens wear.”

  Nick jerked his head up. “What? That’s not—that can’t be true! The seller on eBay said that it was a mystical and magical ring from the ancient lands that invoked feelings of power fit for royalty!”

  Gibby snorted. “Royalty. So, like, drag queens.”

  “Would you lay off with the drag queens. It’s not for drag queens!”