server behind the counter handed him a fresh pepperoni pizza. It was the same kid Iâd nearly mowed down in the hallway only minutes earlier.
âHey, Topher,â said Oliver, überfriendly. âYou know Nica.â
âHey,â he responded with an affirmative nod. âThink we have Spanish together.â
âYeah, hi.â
Topher Hansen was the quiet, unassuming type. Super polite, a low flier on the radar, never got in anyoneâs way. He kept to himself so much that he seemed like the kid who wasnât there. And yet there he appeared in my life twice in the span of fifteen minutes.
âCan I get you anything, Nica?â Topher asked, staring at me with the same odd expression heâd had when Iâd run into him in the hallway. He gave me an uneasy, paranoid feeling. Was he watching me?
âIâll just have some of his,â I replied, pushing Oliver along, wanting to get away.
âNo one remembers anything from Danaâs party,â I announced to Oliver moments after I dragged him over to an empty table at the back of the cafeteria. âEven the host.â
Oliver almost gagged on a slice of piping-hot pepperoni pizza as he tried to speak. His first attempt was barely distinguishable as English. He swallowed a bit and tried again.
âWait, what?â
âAfter the pulse, I mean,â I whispered. âJackson changing color and blasting a kid across the room. Shit, did you forget about it, too?â
âNo,â Oliver replied, âof course not. What exactly did Dana say?â
âThat she blacked out.â
âYou think sheâs lying?â
âI donât have a clue what sheâs doing,â I retorted. âFor all I know, maybe sheâs telling the truth.â
A tsunami of guilt hit me. Had I been so eager to suspect Dana that I had discounted Occamâs razorâs much-preferred explanation? The simplest explanation is usually the best one.
âEven so,â Oliver added. âItâs super creepy.â Though not creepy enough to curb his voracious appetite. He snatched up his final quarter of pizza.
All I could do was nod in agreement. It was even impressive, in a supervillain sort of way. How had Bar Tech done it? How had they gotten into the minds of so many students and just wiped them out?
âItâs a good thing, right?â Oliverâs observation sent a chill up my spine. âAt least our secretâs safe.â
âMaybe. Not to whoever covered it up,â I pointed out.
Just then my phone buzzed. So did Oliverâs.
âJackson wants us to meet him,â I announced, reading the brief message.
Oliver nodded. Heâd gotten an identical text from Jackson. âWhatâs in the library?â
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
Oliver and I hoofed it upstairs to the library. Trying to arrange secret meetings aside, I hated how awkward I was feeling around Jackson. Then again, I was barely used to having to compete for his attention. Iâd been one of a whopping two people who would even speak to him at school. With Danaâs return, I had no idea where that left meâor us. As I learned, though, the denizens of Barrington High could have quite short memories.
Oliver and I entered the library and headed toward the back. It was deathly quiet. Everyone was having lunch, even the faculty. Finally, something was actually going as planned.
Jackson looked upset. âWhatâs going on, Nica?â
I took a deep breath. There was a lot to explain. A few deep breaths from my coreâand my hand slowly started to disappear from the end of my fingertips up through my palm.
âOur powers have never lasted this long. Can you . . . ?â I looked to Oliver, but he had already loped the entire length of the library and back in barely the blink of eye.
âActually . . . yeah,â Oliver replied, stunned that he still had the ability and
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