“No, because you’re going to love it. Now, I don’t have access to radioactive isotopes. I don’t even know where you can get them. I tried looking online, but apparently you can’t just buy them whenever you want. I should mention that I’ve probably been flagged for that search by the CIA or the NSA, but we’ll worry about that later.”
“I can’t wait,” Gibby said dryly. “The idea of you having anything radioactive should be reason enough for its limited access.”
Nick ignored her. “So, I thought, what can I possibly do to get myself a radioactive spider? Then I figured it out.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I’ll nuke it in the microwave.”
He waited for thunderous applause.
He got thunderous silence.
Maybe they hadn’t understood. “The spider. It’ll go into the microwave. For science.”
“What,” Gibby said flatly.
“Microwaves use RF radiation,” Nick explained patiently. “And that’s a form of electromagnetic radiation. Which is radiation. Right? And so when the spider is exposed to the radiation, it will become radioactive and bite me, and I will become a Spider-Man rip-off. And I promise up front I’ll avoid the weird emo-dancing Tobey Maguire tragedy that made no sense. I don’t even know how to dance, so we should be good there.”
More silence.
He understood that it was complex. People had a hard time understanding the way his brain worked. Most days, he was on a completely different level, though he tried not to think that way too much because that made him sound like a conceited dick, and he really wasn’t.
So he gave them time to process, because he was a good friend.
Jazz spoke first. “Okay. I can see it. Problem. It’s not a spider. It’s a cricket.”
Nick tried not to glare at her. “And whose fault is that?”
She shrugged. “Maybe next time say thank you when someone gives you something.”
“Thank you for not getting me what I asked for.”
“You’re welcome. So, you won’t be Spider-Man. You’ll be Cricket-Man. And your superpower will be rubbing your legs together to make noise late at night when everyone is trying to sleep to remind them you exist and are very annoying.”
“Yes,” Gibby breathed. “Yes to this. Yes to all of it. Oh my god, yes. This is so stupid. I can’t wait. White people are freaky.”
Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One part of the article on idea boards told him that people might not initially grasp the concept, and that he needed to be patient. Great ideas were often born of frustration, which was a feeling he knew well. When he’d calmed himself down with a breathing exercise he’d also found on Cosmo (in addition to finding out sixteen ways to please a man that involved things he was not prepared to read), he opened his eyes. “I appreciate your support,” he said evenly. “Does anyone else know what crickets are good for?”
“They eat plants and sometimes meat,” Gibby said, though it sounded like she was struggling not to laugh. “And that chirping sound is used to scare away other males, and to find a mate.” She grinned smugly at Seth. “I wonder what would happen if Nick chirped with his legs.”
“This is the dumbest conversation we’ve ever had,” Seth muttered.
“They can jump really high,” Nick said, trying to find a way to salvage this debacle. “So, my superpower could be that I jump over things.” It wasn’t ideal, but he could work with that. Leap tall buildings in a single bound? Completely original.
“And your chirping could be a supersonic sound wave that knocks people through walls,” Jazz said, eyes wide. “Once you landed from jumping really high, you could lie down in front of the bad guys and rub your legs at them.”
Gibby cackled, her arms clutched around her middle.
“Okay,” Nick said, pushing through his annoyance. “This isn’t so bad. Mostly. Next step. I would be Cricket-Man. And since I’ll be shipped with Shadow Star, we need to discuss our ship name.” That was the part he cared about the most.
“CricketStar,” Gibby wheezed, bending over.
“ShadowCricket,” Nick decided, because Gibby was the worst. “It’s … okay. I mean, sure, it could be better, but still. It sounds like—Gibby, I swear to god if you don’t stop laughing, I probably won’t do anything about it, but I could.”
Gibby continued to laugh, because everyone knew Nick’s threats were empty, no matter how much he bared his teeth.
“So, let me get this straight,” Seth said. “You want to take this cricket