Dad turned back toward the stove and the growing stack of French toast.
An old TV sat on the counter near the fridge, turned to the news as usual. Nick was about to ignore it until the perfectly coifed anchor announced they were going live to Rebecca Firestone, now on the scene.
Nick’s attention snapped to the screen as he grabbed the remote off the table and turned up the volume.
Nothing else mattered. Not the bitter aftertaste of the pill. Not the fact that his father seemed to be making enough French toast to feed a family of thirty-four. Not the fact that Nick was pretty sure he’d forgotten to put on deodorant after his shower. No. All that mattered was Rebecca Firestone. Because if Rebecca Firestone was on, that meant one thing.
Shadow Star.
There she was, makeup expertly applied over glowing white skin, brown hair cut pixie-short, eyes wide and teeth Hollywood white as she smiled at the camera. In the background, police cruisers lined the sidewalks, lights flashing. “Thank you, Steve. I’m standing here on the corner of Forty-Eighth and Lincoln in front of the Burke Tower, where last night, a brazen attempt at a break-in occurred.” The screen cut away, showing the gratuitous skyscraper rising high above Nova City. “Sources tell me that a group of armed militants attempted to parachute onto the roof of Burke Tower. Though their intentions remain unclear at this point, their plans were immediately vanquished upon landing when they were met by Nova City’s own Extraordinary, Shadow Star.”
“Immediately vanquished,” Nick muttered, making a face. “Because that rolls right off the tongue. Get an editor, Firestone. You’re an embarrassment to your profession.”
The screen returned to Rebecca Firestone. She was smiling widely, her cheeks flushed. “I was able to speak with Shadow Star off camera earlier this morning, and he told me that while the militants were prepared, they didn’t get much farther than attempting to gain access through the ventilation system. All seven were incapacitated in a matter of moments and have since been handed off to Nova City’s finest. No civilians were injured.”
Nick absolutely did not swoon. And if he did, it had nothing to do with Rebecca Firestone. She was the gnarled barnacle attached to the wonder that was Shadow Star. Most everyone thought there’d been something between them at one point. And even though Nick knew Rebecca Firestone was nothing but a nosy jerk who lived to play the role of a professional damsel in distress, Shadow Star was always there to rescue her, no matter what she did to get herself in trouble.
Nick was not a fan of the self-proclaimed intrepid reporter. She was obviously using Shadow Star to make a name for herself in the cutthroat world of reporting on Extraordinaries. Maybe Shadow Star tended to give her exclusives he never gave anyone else, and maybe there’d been that one picture where he’d saved her from a burning building, Rebecca clutched in his buff arms, her face in his neck. And yes, Nick had printed that photo and used it as a target for the dartboard in his room, but he wasn’t jealous. He was just a firm believer in journalistic ethics.
“With me now, is Nova City’s Chief of Police, Rodney Caplan.”
The camera panned left, and a large Black man stood next to Rebecca Firestone, sweating profusely, his caterpillar mustache wilted. His uniform was straining at the stomach, and he reached up to wipe his brow before attempting a smile that came off as a grimace.
“Cap looks like he could use a vacation,” Nick said without looking away from the TV.
“We all do, kid,” Dad said. “Maybe next time he comes over for dinner, you can tell him that. See what happens.”
“I did last time. He laughed at me.”
“That’s because it was a dumb thing to say.”
“Positive reinforcement,” Nick reminded him.
“Right. Sorry. It was a dumb thing to say, but you used your words. Proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“What can you tell us, Chief?” Rebecca Firestone asked.
“Absolutely nothing,” Cap said. “In fact, you already know more than you should. Probably more than we do.”
Rebecca Firestone barely faltered. Some might say she was professional; Nick was not one of those people. “This is the third major criminal operation we’ve seen in the last five months attempt to gain access to Burke Tower. Granted, they have all failed thanks to Shadow Star, but—”
“Not thanks to Shadow Star,” Cap said, glaring at the camera. “Thanks to the hardworking men and women of the Nova City Police Department. We absolutely don’t need these costumed vigilantes flying around with their capes and their powers, trying to—”
“Shadow Star doesn’t wear a cape,” Nick and Rebecca Firestone said at the same time.
Cap turned to stare at Rebecca Firestone.
Dad turned to stare at Nick.
Nick ignored him.
Rebecca Firestone said, “Isn’t it true that Shadow Star has—”
“For all we know, Shadow Star is responsible for these crimes,” Cap said, mustache drooping farther as he frowned. “As a way to increase his profile. These groups could be working for him. A setup to make him look like the hero. Nova City was safer before the Extraordinaries reappeared, and I will do everything in my power to see all of them behind bars.”
“Yes,” Nick said. “Invite Cap over again. I have some things I’d like to discuss with him.”
Instead of responding, Dad reached over Nick’s shoulder and switched off the TV. It was an effective rebuttal. Nick was impressed. Annoyed, but impressed. “I was watching that.”
“Breakfast,” his dad said, like Nick hadn’t spoken at all.
Since Nick was supposed to make this a better year, he didn’t argue, at least not out loud. The retort in his head was fierce and devastating.
“Why weren’t you there?” he asked, pulling at the chair and sitting down.
Dad scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat on the other side of the table. “If I tell you that I was, you get to ask me two questions, and two questions only.”
Nick gaped at him.
Dad put two slices of French toast on his plate.
“But—I want—you can’t just—”
“Two questions, Nicky. Make ’em count.”
His father was amazing. Gruff, but kind. He was good at what he did. When he laughed, his eyes crinkled, the lines around his mouth deep, and that made Nick happy, though it didn’t happen as often as it used to. He was courageous and just, and sometimes, Nick didn’t know what he’d do without him.
But he could also be the biggest jerk. Like right now. “Seven questions.”
“No questions,” Dad replied, handing Nick the butter.
“Six questions!”
“I’m bored with this.”
“You’re terrible at negotiating. How am I supposed to learn how to adult when my parental figure refuses to work with me?”
“Life sucks, kid. Take what you can get.”
“Fine. Two questions.”
Dad pointed his fork at Nick. “While you eat. You took your pill. You need food in your stomach.”
“I’m supposed to wait thirty minutes before—”
“Nicky.”
“What did they want?” Nick asked through a mouthful of French toast.