Page 39 of Flash Fire (The Extraordinaries 2)

7

As February wore on, winter descended on Nova City with a vengeance. Back-to-back storms locked the city down, dumping almost a foot of snow over a period of three days, beginning, unfortunately, on a Friday afternoon. The students of Centennial High were released an hour early and were told that classes were set to resume on Monday, unless the storms worsened.

Having snowstorms on the weekend with no school cancellation was, in Nick’s opinion, like getting punched in the junk and being told to be happy about it. Dad didn’t agree, but then, he seemed to be of the mind that things like education were important.

Nick frowned when he saw Dad dressed as if he were going out. It was a Saturday, and though there had been a break in the snow, he should have been in sweats like Nick and parked in front of the television. “Are you leaving?”

Dad nodded. “Meeting up with Gibby’s and Jazz’s parents for lunch.”

Nick froze. He hadn’t heard much about them since they’d all convened at the Gray house—at least, not from Dad. “Is that a good thing?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t know,” Dad said, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “But I’m going anyway, because it’s the right thing to do. The very least I can do is make myself available to answer any questions they have. And even if they tear me a new one, I’m going to listen. Doesn’t matter what age you are, you still need to own up to your mistakes. It can help make you a better person.”

Nick sighed. “That’s very mature of you. Still, it sounds like a weird support group for people whose kids—”

“—continually put themselves in danger?”

“We donot—”

“Nick.” Dad reached down and poked his cheek. “I’m going to stop by the station after to catch up on paperwork, but I’ll be home before too late. And get your butt off the couch, kiddo. I want all the Christmas decorations taken down by the time I get back. No excuses. It’s February. It’s starting to get embarrassing.” He headed for the door.

“What?” Nick bellowed after him. “Do you have any idea how much crap we put up? That’ll take forever!”

“Then you better get started,” Dad called back. “I don’t want to see anything holiday-related when I get home. Boxes and plastic tubs are in the attic.”

Nick groaned as the front door closed. He was starting to see why people had kids: child labor. That was the only reason. He looked forlornly at the television, his plans of mindless entertainment evaporating. His promising Saturday was turning to shit.

He picked up his phone and texted Seth about the prison conditions of his current living situation. Seth responded almost immediately, saying that he was working with Gibby to figure out how to use all the new equipment in the lair. Nick was supposed to go over later, but Dad apparently thought Nick didn’t deserve to have anything resembling a life.

He was about to throw down his phone when he got another text. Jazz.

U up?

It’s eleven in the morning. It sounds like ur hitting on me.

Gross. U would know if I was. Can I come over?

Need a friend.

Nick frowned. He hadn’t had much of a chance to talk with her since finding out that Gibby might be leaving. Howard University was in Washington, DC. Planes were expensive. The train was cheaper, but it would take hours to get there. He didn’t knowif she’d made any decisions, but he’d been too scared to ask. He should’ve talked to Jazz sooner about it. This affected them all, but her the most.

Yep! Come over. Need me to meet u and walk with u?

Already here.

He jerked his head up when a knock came at the door. Oof. Must have been worse than he thought. He climbed over the back of the couch, almost falling but managing to stay upright. The Concentra made him a little tired today. At least he didn’t have a headache.

He opened the door, a wave of cold air washing over him. Jazz stood on the porch, her scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face. Her eyes crinkled slightly as she obviously smiled beneath the scarf. He hoped that was a good sign.

He pulled her in, closing the door behind them. Jazz unraveled her scarf as he brushed the flecks of snow from her coat. “Hey,” she said. “Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden.”

“No worries. Your timing is impeccable. I’ve been given the Herculean task of taking down the Christmas decorations. You can help if you want.”

“Lucky me,” she murmured, hanging her coat on the hook near the door. “Your dad’s gone, right?”

Nick eyed her suspiciously. “You knew about the whole support group thing?”

“Found out about it this morning. I’m choosing to believe it’s a good sign.”