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From the ceiling hung a replica model of a 1918 Yellow Curtiss JN-4 biplane. The propeller was broken, Nick’s contribution to the entire project that had started out great, but then had caused him to be bored out of his mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sit still for six hours and put together a model airplane. It was just that he was incapable of doing so. So, on hour three, he’d been so twitchy that he’d accidentally broken the propeller, the audiblesnapmaking him look down at his hands in horror. But Seth had shrugged, saying their plane would look as if it’d been in war now, which made it better.

Seth was good like that.

There were bookshelves filled with hundreds of books, most of which Nick had never touched and would never read. There was, however, a shelf toward the bottom that was lined with graphic novels and stacks of comic books Nick had given Seth. And Seth had read each and every one dutifully. Or, at least, he’d tried to read each and every one, but Nick had been so excited at the sight of a comic book in his best friend’s hands that he’d sat right behind Seth peering over his shoulder, pointing out each panel, telling him all the backstory that Seth would have missed. He’d been worried, at first, that Seth wouldn’t like them (and worse, that he’d think they werestupid), but that hadn’t happened. He spent hours with Nick talking about heroes and villains, letting Nick babble at him about howcoolStorm was, or how hardcore Venom could be.

It was different now, since Shadow Star and Pyro Storm appeared. They were comic books come to life, right in his city. Nick had known about Extraordinaries before, but they’d been the stuff of legends, in places far away from home. It wasn’t until he’d seen with his own eyes Pyro Storm fly or Shadow Star crawl up the sideof a building that it’d hit Nick just how astonishing they could be. After Guardian left for unknown reasons years earlier, the idea of Extraordinaries had been something the people of Nova City only saw from their television and computer screens. It was easy to think of them as almost fictional. It wasn’t until Pyro Storm and Shadow Star had revealed themselves that people started to give a shit again about Extraordinaries.

When Nick became an Extraordinary and teamed up on and off the field with Shadow Star, maybe someone would write a comic book about him, filled with colorful panels ofPOWandBLAMand heroic deeds against the forces of evil.

He made a mental note to put together a pitch for Marvel and DC and Vertigo after he’d gotten his powers. He did have to expand his brand, after all. Comic books, TV shows, movies. He hoped they would hire someone with nice abs to play him. That seemed like it’d be the right thing to do, even if it would be embellishing a little.

Seth was lying in bed, propped up by two pillows. His comforter was pulled up to his chin, and he was staring at Nick with wide eyes. A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead.

“Hi!” he squeaked. He coughed. Then, in a much lower voice, said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Nick said, closing the door behind him. “Are you dying?”

“Um. No?”

“That’s good.” Nick let his backpack fall to the floor. “Because Martha told me about the ghosts here, and it would totally suck if you died and became trapped like they did. I don’t know how I’d feel about having to salt and burn your bones.”

Seth squinted at him. “The… ghosts?”

“Yes, the ghosts.” Nick frowned. “And speaking of, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your house used to be a tuberculosis insane asylum and is haunted now. That seems like information one tells his best friend.”

“Tuberculosis… insane… asylum?”

Seth’s cold must have infected his brain. He sounded like he didn’t know what Nick was talking about. “Right,” Nick said slowly. “The tuberculosis insane asylum. Your aunt just told meall about it. Didn’t you hear those footsteps running up the stairs and the door slamming?” Nick’s eyes widened as he looked around. “Oh my god, are they here right now?”

“Oh,” Seth said. “Right. The ghosts! Sorry. I thought you were talking about something else. This flu. Man, it is really making me woozy.”

“I thought you had a cold.”

Seth nodded furiously. “Right. A cold. That’s exactly what I meant.” He coughed roughly. “Oh man, such a bad cold. So sick. From the flooding. You should leave since I’m contagious, and I don’t want you to catch it.”

“I ate oranges,” Nick told him, sitting on the edge of the bed. Seth pulled his feet away to make room.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat an orange.”

“Why is everyone saying that to me today?” Nick wondered aloud. “I do eat fruit, you know. Like, maybe notallthe time, but I do.”

“When was the last time you ate an orange?”

Nick didn’t think he’d eaten an orange in at least three years. “This morning. So I’m chock full of vitamin C and therefore, immune to your affliction.”

“Well, better to be safe than sorry,” Seth said, pulling his covers up to his mouth. “You should probably go home, and then we can talk on the phone.”

Nick shrugged. “I’m already here. If I’m going to be infected, it’s happened by now.”

Seth sighed.

“Are you okay? You’re acting kinda weird.”

“I’m fine,” Seth said. “Just, you know. Medicine head, and all that.” He coughed again.

Seth needed to take better care of himself. “Do you need me to bring you something? I was going to get you soup, but then I didn’t have any money, so I didn’t.”

“Thought that counts, I suppose.”