“I’m not stalking him—”
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
Nick turned his head, and one of the best people in the whole wide world appeared next to him, pushing up his thick glasses, which had slid down his nose as they always seemed to do, a curl of his black hair hanging down on his forehead. Seth Gray, the person Nick trusted more than anyone else. He was wearing his usual baggy sweater, with a collared shirt underneath that was tucked into one of his many pairs of chinos. And today, for whatever reason, he had decided to wear a bow tie, and Nick didn’t know what to do with Seth’s bow tie that didn’t involve wanting to reach out and straighten it for at least three hours, while whispering he was too good for this world.
He kept his hands to himself.
Except—“Did you get taller?”
Seth blinked owlishly at him. “Since you saw me a couple of days ago? I don’t … think so? I mean, it’s possible, I haven’t measured myself in a few hours, but—”
“You seem like you’re taller.”
“Oh.” Seth looked away, reaching up and tugging on his collar. “Um. Thank you?”
“Oh my god,” Gibby mumbled. “This still happens?”
“I think they’re precious,” Jazz whispered to her.
Nick ignored whatever they were talking about. He was still stuck on the fact that he and Seth were almost eye level now, which caused him a level of consternation he wasn’t prepared for. Not when Seth had always been pale and chubby with curly hair that should have been illegal for how perfectly messy it always looked. But he’d been shorter than Nick and—
“Are you wearing lifts?”
Seth shifted like he was nervous. “No, I’m not wearing lifts. Maybe you’re getting smaller.”
“I’m not getting smaller. That’s not a thing.”
Seth started to say something, but it was swallowed by his yawn.
Nick frowned. “Are you tired? Why are you tired? You look tired. Did you not get enough sleep last night?”
Seth reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m okay, Nicky. Just a late night.”
“Doing what?”
“Tossing and turning. Anxious about today, I guess. First day back and all. You know how I get.”
Nick did. Sometimes, Seth worried too much about nothing at all, and it frustrated Nick to no end, because it meant there was something making Seth feel bad that Nick couldn’t tear apart with his bare hands.
Gibby stood, pulling Jazz up with her. “As fun as it is to watch you two do … whatever it is you’re doing, we’re going to be late.”
“I can’t be late,” Jazz said, putting her earbuds back into her bag. “Daddy said if I show up on time for the entire first month, he’ll buy me the Alexander McQueen skull-embellished pumps I need to continue to exist.”
“Sounds fake, but okay,” Nick muttered, as he followed his friends toward the subway stairs.
* * *
The streets of Nova City were crowded as they made their way toward Centennial High School, home of the Incredible Fighting Wombats. Traffic was backed up, yellow taxis honking their horns as if it would get the gridlock to move forward. Jazz and Gibby walked in front of them, hand in hand, Jazz talking animatedly while Gibby glared at everyone who bumped into them.
Seth and Nick walked side by side, shoulders brushing together. Nick was trying to surreptitiously see if Seth did, in fact, have lifts on, but they looked like the same terribly endearing loafers he always wore.
“What?” Nick asked, having missed what Seth was saying.
“I said, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to beta read the chapter before you posted it.” Seth tugged on one of the straps to his backpack.
“It’s fine. It was pretty much perfect already.”
Seth snorted. “I guess.”
That wasn’t the glowing praise Nick had expected. “You … guess?”
“It was fine, Nicky.”
Nick chose to believe him. “I saw your comment. You said stuff came up. What stuff?”
“Oh,” Seth said. “Just. You know. Stuff.”
“Uh-huh. That sounds believable.” Nick was struck with an absolutely horrendous thought, though he couldn’t figure out why it was absolutely horrendous. “Did you have a date or something?”
Seth started coughing explosively.
Nick patted his back like any good friend should.
“No,” Seth managed to say, wiping his mouth. “Why would—who would I—”
“I dunno, man. Maybe you’ve got a secret girlfriend. Or boyfriend.” That left a weird taste in his mouth.
Seth had come out to him first when they were fourteen, telling Nick he thought he was bisexual. Nick, in his attempt to be cool and accepting, had squeaked and fallen off the park bench where they’d been feeding kettle corn to birds. It’d taken longer for Nick to figure out his own queerness, but then he’d been the one with a boyfriend (ish) first. It wasn’t a queer race, but that had to count for something, right?
Seth had been scarce over the summer, much to Nick’s consternation. What if he’d met some Luxor Avenue debutante or a burly mechanic with oil stains on his fingers? Nick read alternate universe fanfiction. Stuff like that happened all the time.
“Are you still a virgin?” Nick demanded rather hysterically. “We were supposed to tell each other when we had sex for the first time. We promised.”
Seth blinked at him, eyes wide behind his glasses. “I didn’t have sex. What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Nick admitted. “You’re as tall as me and it’s freaking me out.”
“I can’t control that!”
“Well, try. I’m supposed to be the statuesque one here. It’s all I’ve got going for me, Gray. You know this. That and my uncanny ability to tell heart-wrenching love stories based on real people, which is probably borderline unhealthy.” Speaking of stories. “Did you see that evil wench on the news this morning? God, she was practically salivating over Shadow Star. Someone should tell him he needs to get a restraining order against her.”
Seth sighed. “I doubt there’s anything going on between Shadow Star and Rebecca Firestone.”
“I know that. You know that. We all know that. But does she? Because I don’t know if she does. She wore extra lipstick today like she thought it was going to make her look more attractive. Just because Superman has Lois Lane doesn’t mean Rebecca Firestone gets to play the plucky reporter who needs to be saved all the time. And besides, everyone knows Superman is in love with Batman. Even though someone decided their ship name should be SuperBat rather than the golden opportunity that is ManMan. I mean, come on! How iconic would ManMan be? SuperBat sounds like something found in a dirty cave underneath a swamp.” Nick frowned. “What are we talking about?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. You were on Shadow Star, and then Firestone—”
“Right. Firestone. She gets all these exclusives with Shadow Star, though no one knows why.”
“Let me guess. You have a new theory.”
“You’re damn right I do!” Nick crowed. “And this one could totally be true.” He dodged what looked like a wedding party, who apparently decided that standing in the middle of the sidewalk for photos on a Monday morning was the right thing to do. He groaned as he stepped in a puddle filled with dirty water. The would-be bride glared at him. He wished her many happy returns. She wasn’t pleased.