Page 54

8

“If I’m going to be haunted by ghost bugs, it will be all your fault!” Nick called as he watched Jazz and Gibby walk down the sidewalk from his house. Gibby flipped him off. Jazz waved. Those crazy kids. He hoped they made it.

Dad and Cap were in the kitchen, munching on leftover pizza. “Don’t tell my wife,” Cap warned him through a mouthful of sausage. “I’ll arrest you, and you’ll never see the sun again.”

“That’s police intimidation,” Nick said. “I have a Tumblr with almost six hundred followers. They’ll hear about this, mark my words.”

“What did he say?” Cap asked Dad.

“Teenager speak,” Dad said. “It’s like the message board at the station.”

“Oh.” Cap looked at Nick. “You a snitch now?”

“You’re damn—”

“Nick.”

“—darn right I am,” Nick said. “Gotta bring down the corruption within the Nova City Police Department. I’ll be a hero.”

“Speaking of being a hero,” Dad said, “that was an awful lot of screaming you did for a bug.”

“Jazz should have kept her mouth shut,” Nick mumbled. “I’m going back upstairs so I don’t have to watch two old men being weird.”

“Keep the door open!” Dad called after him.

“Why are you even—? You know what? I don’t have time for your nonsense.” They weren’tleave the door openfriends. Seth was obviously kissing other people, much to Nick’s consternation. As he climbed the stairs, he thought about all the times Seth hadbeen busy lately or hadn’t picked up the phone when Nick had called. He’d later say he was busy with volunteering, or he was doing chores for his aunt and uncle, or that he was doing prep work for the upcoming school year like a nerd, but what if… what if he’d…

What if hedidhave a secret girlfriend and/or boyfriend? That didn’t sit well with Nick. Why would Seth lie about something like that?

Nick hadn’t been lying when he said they told each other everything, juice/urine notwithstanding. They’d been friends forever. There was barely a time Nick could remember when Sethhadn’tbeen a part of his life, especially when Before had become After. Those were hazy days, days where Nick couldn’t figure out how to gather the shattered pieces of his heart to begin trying to put it back together. Days when instead of his mind running on a billion different tangents, it was strangely white, as if absent of everything that made him who he was. He was in a fog, vaguely aware that he should be angry, but unable to latch on to the rage his father felt.

For weeks After, the house had been filled with cops and detectives, their wives and husbands and partners bringing more food than could ever be consumed. Nick didn’t understand the idea of casseroles for mourning. Eating was the last thing he wanted to do. People tried to coax him, but Dad had hoarsely told them to leave Nick alone. Nick tried to be grateful, but Dad’s eyes were hollow, as if all his insides had been scooped out, leaving nothing but a shell of skin and bone.

Gibby had been there, and she’d hugged him and kissed him and told him that it would be okay. She smelled good and Nick had clung to her, but it wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted. It wasn’t exactly what he needed.

Sethwaswhat he needed, though, and he’d been late, but then the door had burst open, and he’d stood there, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, eyes wide as he searched the living room until he found Nick. Nick made a wounded sound, wanting to get to Seth as soon as possible, but unable to move his arms.

Seth knew, though.

Somehow, he’d gotten Nick upstairs and put him to bed, climbingin behind him and curling around him protectively. Nick remembered thinking that he was safe, then. He was safe, and though everything Before would now be After, Seth was there with him.

He had cried, then.

Seth had whispered in his ear for the longest time, breath on Nick’s neck, telling him that he was sorry, he was sorry this had happened, that he would do everything he could to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. He didn’t know how yet, he told Nick, but he’d figure it out.

It’d taken a long time for things to get better.

There was still that ache in Nick’s chest, a feeling that a piece of him was gone and would never come back. Nick knew he would probably always feel that way. He was allowed, the therapist had told him. Dad had forced him to go, and though Nick thought it was stupid, he’d gone with minimal complaint because Dad had almost looked hopeful. Nick was allowed to feel as he did because that was the nature of grief. He was young, and his mom being taken from them was unexpected. He would work through it, and it would get easier. Eventually.

And it had, surprisingly. He thought about her every day, spoke to her picture in a way that was probably unhealthy, but no one could take that from him. It wasn’t like he thought she wasactuallylistening, it just made him feel better, saying stuff out loud that he might not say otherwise.

“Okay,” Nick said as he entered his room. “Phase Two of—”

And he stopped.

Seth looked up at him almost guiltily.

But Nick couldn’t be bothered with that.