And he didn’t care.
His pencil moved, but his mind was elsewhere. Adam wasn’t responding to his texts. Well, he’d responded to one this morning, when Nick finally begged him to confirm he’d got home all right.
I’m home.
And that was it. Nick almost would have preferred the silence. Now he knew Adam was getting his texts and choosing not to respond.
Quinn was no better. He’d tracked her down in the hall this morning, but she’d turned her back on him and said she’d talk to him later.
But not before he’d caught a glimpse of the new bruise on her cheek.
What. The. Hell.
He’d tried to catch up to her, but she’d disappeared into a classroom, and the teacher had all but closed the door in his face.
And of course texts demanding to know what had happened had been hopeless.
No one
would respond to him, it seemed.
He didn’t want to be around his brothers, with Chris suspecting something and Gabriel being an
asshole
and Hunter knowing everything but keeping quiet. At least Michael was swamped with work, and he hadn’t resumed the prying.
Nick turned to the last physics test question and sighed. He didn’t have a chance.
He gave it his best shot anyway, hoping for partial credit.
Yeah, right.
Luckily, Dr. Cutter was speaking with another student when Nick brought the test up to his desk. He turned it over, placing it face down on the desk blotter.
Then he walked out of the room, feeling the pinch of guilt between his shoulder blades.
He had
never
failed a test. Ever.
And now he’d done it twice.
He couldn’t go to the cafeteria — not like he wanted to eat anything anyway. He shifted his backpack and headed for the library.
While he walked, he scrolled through the texts from Adam until he found the picture he’d sent himself.
His eyes blurred, and he blinked moisture away. God, he’d been such an
idiot
.
His phone vibrated in his hand, making his heart leap.
Not Adam. Michael.
I hate to ask, but can you help with a job tonight?
Nick sighed.
But what else did he have to do? He texted back quickly.
Sure.
By the end of the day, he was regretting it. Tension was making him surly and snappish. Janette Morrits asked for a pencil in seventh period and he just about flung it in her face. Teachers responded to his attitude with lectures to pay attention, to focus, that they expected more.
Every snicker, every giggle, every stupid use of the word
gay
or
fag
had his head whipping around.
Maybe Hunter changed his mind and told everyone. Maybe they’re all talking about me.
He found himself wishing he sat in the back of every room, instead of the front.
No, he found himself wishing he’d cut school.
At the final bell, he stormed out the side door. He didn’t want to ride home with his brothers. He didn’t want to work a job with Michael.
Cars were lined up illegally in the fire lane, parents who couldn’t be bothered to sit through the heavier traffic on the other side of school. But trees lined the grounds beyond those vehicles, dense woods that led the way home. Nick headed for the crosswalk. He’d cut through the woods and clear his head. Maybe after three miles of fresh air, he could get it together to spend a few hours slinging pavestone or planting bushes or whatever Michael needed help with.
Heavy clouds swarmed the sky, trapping cold air near the ground. Or maybe he was doing that. He cast his senses far, feeding power into his element. Reckless and dangerous, but he didn’t care. Wind whipped through his hair, feeding on his temper to blow loose debris along the curb. A notebook flipped open to spill papers across the quad. Girls shrieked and scurried to catch them.
Rain spat at his face, and Nick pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt. It kept out the cold and his classmates, especially since not too many students came out this side of the building.
The hoodie didn’t keep out sound, however. A car door slammed; then a voice called out as he slid between two sedans.
‘Windy out, huh, douchebag?’
The air brought the words right to him. Nick stopped and lowered the hood. Tyler stood by the curb, two cars up, leaning against his truck.
What was he doing here? Nick gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists.
He
hated
that his first thought was to wish Gabriel was here.
Especially when Tyler moved away from his truck to approach him.
Thunder rumbled through the sky overhead. Wind blasted Nick in the face and pulled at his clothes. He called for more, asking his element to rip Tyler’s face clean off.
Nick knew better than to fight him physically. Tyler fought dirty enough to give Gabriel a run for his money. Nick couldn’t suffocate him, either, not with his senses so scattered. The wind pulled his power in too many directions. Thunder cracked and rolled again.
He begged for cold, and the next blast of wind was downright arctic.
‘Go away, Tyler,’ he said, keeping his voice low. ‘You’re not supposed to be here.’
Tyler laughed in his face. ‘I’m not allowed to pick up a girl?’
Nick froze. Was Tyler here for
Quinn
?
Then Nick thought of that second bruise on Quinn’s cheek, and he started forward. Quinn was exactly the type of girl to fall in with someone like Tyler, someone who’d make promises to take care of her, but would then turn around and backhand her across the face. He thought of Adam’s history, and fury made his voice tight. ‘You leave her alone. She has enough problems without you screwing around with her.’
Tyler shoved him back. ‘Yeah, and what do you know about it?’
‘I’ve seen enough. You keep your hands off her.’
‘Jealous?’ sneered Tyler. ‘That’s funny.’ Then he hit Nick in the chest again, hard enough to knock him back, toward the woods.
Nick shoved him back, feeling his wind pick up fistfuls of twigs and rocks to pelt them at Tyler.
Bonus: twigs and rocks pelted Tyler’s truck, too.
Nick had the satisfaction of seeing Tyler fall back a step, an arm raised to protect his eyes. A rock hit his face and drew blood. Then a small branch hit his upraised arm with enough force to tear his shirt — and the skin below it. Nick caught the scent of blood on the wind.
Tyler surged forward to grab Nick’s arm. ‘Cold out. Maybe I should light something on fire.’
Nick swung a fist and called for stronger wind, but Tyler ducked and caught his wrist. They struggled, but Tyler had him by a good thirty pounds. He twisted Nick’s arm until Nick thought his elbow might give out.
More thunder, more wind. Trees began to sway.
Tyler applied more pressure. ‘Aw,’ he said. ‘Is that painful?’
Yeah. It was.
‘Fuck you,’ Nick gasped. He remembered a time when he was younger, when Tyler had trapped him after gym class, when he’d pinned him much like this to let Seth Ramsey beat the shit out of him.
God, he
hated
this guy. He hated his own fear more.
Wind tore between them, stinging Nick’s cheeks, pelting him with the same debris he was using to attack Tyler. But then his gusts began to pull into a spiral, almost against his will. The clouds overhead shifted. In a minute, he’d have a tornado. His power was always like this — no middle ground. Lively breeze one moment, massively destructive weather event the next.
At least Gabriel’s fire needed something to burn. Air was
everywhere
.
He needed to rein this in before he leveled the school.
Tyler smiled. ‘Guess what, douchebag? You don’t get to play like that anymore.’ He tightened his grip on Nick’s wrist.
And then flame curled from under his hand.
Fire bit through fabric to find skin, and Nick yelled, fighting like mad. His sweatshirt was on fire, a flame trapped beneath Tyler’s fingers. Nothing anyone else could see. The burn clouded his senses, eating into his arm like something alive.
He redoubled his struggles, wishing someone would see and help. But while a few kids were out here, they glanced at the fight and kept walking. No one said anything. No one took any action.
Hell, they probably thought he was Gabriel. And Gabriel
never
needed help.
The wind swirled harder. Nick tried to bite back the pain, focusing all his energy into keeping a tornado from forming. The atmosphere fought him, trying to form a funnel. His element enjoyed the rage in the air, pulling power from his pain and anger.
Tyler shook him a little, sending agony shooting through his elbow. It looked like it was snowing. Or maybe those were stars shooting through his vision.
‘Turning you on?’ said Tyler, his voice low and sinister. ‘Quinn said you were into guys.’
If
anything
could have broken through the pain in his arm, that was it.
Nick couldn’t think, unsure which hurt more: the searing heat in his forearm or the raging dismay of betrayal.
Quinn. Had. Told. Tyler.
He couldn’t fight. He couldn’t focus. A tornado was going to whip through here and leave a wide path of destruction, probably taking him with it. Then again, Tyler was about to burn him to ash, right here beside the fire lane.
But then someone hooked a hand around Tyler’s throat, jerking him back
hard
. Tyler went down harder. Nick stumbled back, losing his footing from the sudden freedom.
His first thought had been Hunter. Or Gabriel.
But Tyler was on the ground and Michael stood over him. He looked down at Tyler like he wanted to kick him in the face, but he cut a quick glance at Nick. ‘You all right?’
No. He was breathing through his teeth and the wind wouldn’t settle. His arm hurt like a
bitch
. He could smell burning fabric, on top of something sickly sweet that he didn’t want to identify. Nick fought his way out of his sweatshirt.
Mistake. He did it fast, and it took skin with it. The wound wasn’t big, but Nick felt the skin separate and peel away. Every nerve went with it. He thought he might pass out. Or throw up. Or both.
But the air was charged with his power, and it surged into the exposed skin, healing him without thought, stealing some of the pain immediately. Nick sucked a breath through his teeth and shivered. The weather no longer seemed centered on destruction, but trees creaked and groaned as the wind battered them.
Michael looked back at Tyler. ‘Keep your hands off my brothers.’
Tyler got to his feet and spat at him. ‘Fuck you, Merrick. He started it.’
‘Nick.’ Michael glanced at him. ‘Get in the truck.’
Nick looked at the fire lane. There was Michael’s truck, about six cars back. Had Michael been here the whole time? Had he heard what Tyler said?
‘Go,’ said Michael. ‘He won’t follow you.’
Like Nick was six years old being chased down by a bully. But what could he do? He clutched his aching arm to his chest and walked.
Tyler didn’t help matters by calling after him. ‘Yeah, it’s a good thing big brother showed up, huh, Nicky?’
Nicky
. He somehow made it an insult.
Nick slammed the cab door and ran a hand through his hair. The frigid wind had cleared the quad, whipping between vehicles to make the truck rock. The open wounds on his arm had closed, turning to nothing more than soft scabs.
Michael was five seconds behind him. He slammed the door, then shoved a key into the ignition and got the heat running.
Nick hadn’t realized his breath was fogging up all the glass. He couldn’t even see what had happened to Tyler. But Michael hadn’t been out there long enough to have done any damage.
‘You didn’t fight him?’ Nick said.
‘He won’t fight me.’ Without any more explanation than that, Michael put the truck in gear, but kept his foot on the brake. ‘Let me see your arm.’
‘It’s okay. I’m okay.’ Nick held it up, but he didn’t care about his arm now. His thoughts felt like the debris scattered all over the quad from the wind. Had Michael heard?
Had he heard?
But Michael said, ‘What made him come after you?’
Nick had no idea. He wished he could get his thoughts to focus. What had Quinn told Tyler? Why? How could she — why would she — ?
‘Nick?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know — Tyler’s never done that before. With the fire.’ He wished Gabriel weren’t being such a dick — Nick could ask him how much power that would take. Tyler wasn’t supposed to be very strong, but something so focused would require a lot of control, right?
You don’t get to play like that anymore.
What was Tyler telling him? What had he said?
She has enough problems without you screwing with her.
Then Tyler’s sneering,
What do you know about it?
What did Tyler know? What was Quinn telling him?
She’d clearly given up his secret. What did that mean?
The windshield cleared in patches. Michael pulled out of his space. ‘Has he been hassling you?’
‘No. Not really.’ Nick paused. ‘Why won’t he fight you?’
‘Because he genuinely believes I killed his sister, and he’s afraid I’ll do the same to him.’ Michael glanced over. ‘I’m serious, Nick. What’s going on?’
His older brother sounded pissed — but only at Tyler. Not like he’d learned anything new and shocking. In a way, it was disappointing. Nick shook his head and looked out the window. ‘Nothing. What were you doing there?’
‘I came to pick you up. I saw the guys getting into the car and you weren’t with them. Gabriel said you were PMS-ing, which I took to mean you were walking home.’
Nick clenched his jaw and glared out the window. Trees along Old Mill Road flew by. Wind was still blowing leaves in every direction, matching his mood.
Then he whipped his head back around. ‘Why were you picking me up?’
‘What’s with all the suspicion? Because I’d like to get this job done before the rain starts.’
Oh. Of course. Nick settled back into the seat. His sweatshirt was destroyed, and he could do with a change of clothes, but the last thing he wanted to do was face his brothers. ‘Do you have an extra pullover in here?’