It was too early for deep questions. “Begrudging,” Nick said. “What do you want?”
“Oh, Nicky. I came to apologize for missing out on yesterday.” He walked farther into the house, hand trailing along the wall. “Jazz told me what happened.”
Of course she did. “Traitor,” Nick muttered as he followed Owen. “That still doesn’t explain why you need to be here on a Sunday morning. You could have waited until school tomorrow.”
“It felt important,” Owen told him. “I forgot how … quaint your house is. It’s charming.”
“Wow. That wasn’t condescending at all.”
Owen flashed another smile at Nick as they went into the kitchen. “It wasn’t meant to be. I like it here. I always have. Remember that one time we made out against the refrigerator? That was fun.” He picked up a piece of bacon leftover from breakfast and bit into it.
“Yay,” Nick said flatly. “I love it when we reminisce.”
“You do?”
“No. You can’t be here. You’re going to get me in more trouble than I’m already in. My dad’s asleep upstairs, and I’m not allowed to have anyone over. Or text on my phone. Or do much of anything, aside from sitting on my bed and contemplating how miserable my life is.”
Owen clicked his tongue. “Grounded?”
Bingo. “Indefinitely.”
“Sucks. But I suppose that’s what happens when you jump into a river while trying to become an Extraordinary.”
“Don’t remind me,” Nick mumbled as he started clearing the dishes from the table. “In hindsight, it wasn’t one of my better ideas.”
“Could have used a little work,” Owen agreed. “But your heart is in the right place.” He paused in front of the counter, looking down at a sheet of paper Dad had left there. “What’s this?”
Nick groaned. “Would you stop being nosy? In fact, you should probably leave. I still have a headache from all the fumes from yesterday. I’m tired and cranky. I want to go back to bed and feel sorry for myself.”
“The Punishment of Nicholas Bell,” Owen read from the paper. “Yikes. This doesn’t sound good.”
It wasn’t. Dad still thought he was funny, even when he was doling out a life sentence. “Let’s just say that breakfast this morning was not one of the better meals I’ve had. It didn’t help that I failed a history quiz. Did you know that teachers respond to emails over the weekend? I didn’t know that. Don’t they have lives outside of school? They really need to stop caring so much about the futures of their students.”
“This is pretty extensive,” Owen murmured. “No TV, no internet. Phone for emergencies only. Two hours of homework every night. A list of chores. Paint the baseboards. What the hell is a baseboard?”
“The bane of my existence,” Nick said, grabbing The Punishment of Nicholas Bell away from Owen. “It’s busywork to keep me out of trouble.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
Nick scowled at him as he folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. “Oh, gee. Thanks. I’m so glad you’re in agreement with my father. Maybe you should consider working on your relationship with your own before you—ugh. I’m sorry. That was a messed-up thing to say.”
Owen shrugged, though Nick didn’t miss the way the skin tightened around his eyes. “You’re not wrong. At least your dad cares.”
Nick didn’t like the fact that he was feeling sorry for Owen Burke so early on a Sunday morning. Not after the day he’d had yesterday. “I guess. Though I think he cares a little too much.”
“He’s your dad. He’s supposed to.”
Nick rolled his eyes as he went to grab the last of the dishes. “I’ll keep that in mind. Look, this has been—”
Owen tapped his fingers on the counter. “Heard from Seth?”
That made Nick pause. “What? Why?”
“Gibby said Seth didn’t show up yesterday either.”
Another traitor. “Yeah.” He dumped the bowls into the sink. “I need new friends.”
“Aw, Nicky. Don’t make that face at me. I feel real bad about it. Honest.”
“No, you don’t. He texted me last night. Said something came up, and he’d explain later.”
“Wow,” Owen said, sounding rather gleeful. “That seems to be happening a lot lately. I wonder why that is?”
“I don’t know,” Nick admitted, as he flipped on the faucet and picked up a bowl. “It’s … complicated, I guess. Or so he says.”
“Are you two still ridiculously in love?”
Nick dropped the bowl into the sink. It clattered loudly. He froze, waiting to hear movement from upstairs. Nothing came. He turned off the faucet before whirling around, glaring at Owen. “What the hell are