It was very late by the time Jonathan gave Drew a ride back. Drew was on the verge of passing out from sheer exhaustion. They hadn't ended up drinking—Corbin simply declined, while Drew reminded Jonathan they both had to get home that night.

  Still, they stayed up late, playing games, celebrating, speculating what might come next. Jonathan was the loudest of the three, naturally, but the others seemed totally on board. Eventually, as the club wound down, Julian came in. Kyle was nowhere to be seen, but Julian congratulated them on their success, toasting the future of their little group.

  Except… something did seem a little off. When Jonathan told him about what they'd done, how they'd increased the drama of the theft and made their move more powerful, Julian didn't seem quite so celebratory anymore. He still congratulated them, told them their earnings—which they'd receive in a few days after Nina's people laundered it—and reiterated their freedom to use the club back rooms as much as they wanted.

  Probably just uncomfortable I changed the plan without asking anyone. It was pretty reasonable. Changing plans like that could get people killed. Jonathan resolved to make sure he ran his plans by the group in advance next time, as much as he could. He couldn't help coming up with it spur-of-the-moment like that, but still… It was my first time. We'll get better. If we even can—we did it perfectly on my first time out.

  "How many times have you guys done this?" asked Jonathan as they pulled in to the convenience store where he'd first picked Drew up.

  "Only twice for me… I think the others have done more. Nina definitely." Drew shrugged. "It's going well so far, though."

  "Yeah." Jonathan leaned over and gave him a side-armed hug. "Hey, you're gonna have enough from this to make up for what you lost at work."

  Drew nodded. "Still figuring out how to get that to my boss without any suspicion. Nina's working on it." He hugged Jonathan back, then got out of the car. "See you Friday."

  Jonathan drove away, satisfied. They'd accomplished what they'd set out to do, Drew's life was looking better, and he'd be making some extra money on the side. He could move out sooner than his original plan, based on the money he was pulling in from his shows. It'd make paying for Julie's sessions easier, tickets down to see Nell in Oregon, everything.

  By the time Jonathan dropped the car off and took the bus home, it was past midnight… and the lights were still on.

  Oh no.

  He turned on his phone, and as expected, he had half a dozen texts from his mom, and a missed call.

  Mom: Wasn't sure if you were going to be home for dinner, so I made extra.

  Mom: It's wrapped up in the refrigerator whenever you get home. I put your name on it.

  Mom: Did I forget about something you were doing tonight?

  Mom: Are you okay?

  Mom: Text me please.

  Mom: I'm really worried. Please let me know you're all right.

  Jonathan rushed inside. He had told her he'd be out late, but… not this late. Besides that, she'd clearly forgotten it anyway—his mom was just more distracted and off lately than she used to be. It wasn't a good time at home, after all, and the thick emotions flooding the house tended to seep into every other part of their lives, or so Julie described it.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Mom?"

  "Jonathan!" she shouted from somewhere upstairs. "Where have you been?"

  "I'm okay. I was out and my phone died."

  He hurried up to find her in his room, of all places, sitting on his bed. She burst up as he walked in, burying him in a hug. "I was so worried!"

  "I'm okay," he repeated, over and over.

  "Don't do that! Keep your phone on!"

  "I'm sorry," Jonathan muttered.

  "I was calling everyone. I called Nell, I called your therapist, I called the rabbi, I called your fath—"

  She cut off. Her eyes fell to the ground, just slightly. Jonathan just stood there, unsure what to do. Do I hug her? Tell her off for getting it wrong, even though I do it all the time too? Sympathize because we're both confused and it feels like he's gone forever? Just say nothing?

  ...This night was going so well.

  Eventually, Jonathan settled on the first option, after more than a minute of standing awkwardly in the hallway. He walked forward and put his arms around his mother, and she hugged him back, but he could tell it wasn't really making her feel better. In all honesty, it didn't do much for him, either—it was less like they were comforting each other and more that they were holding on for dear life.

  Finally, he broke away. His mother choked out another brief reminder about keeping his phone on, but hurried away to the dishes back in the kitchen. Jonathan finished taking off his coat and headed upstairs. Safely ensconced in his bedroom with the door locked—twice over, between the physical lock and a magical one he'd invented—he immediately got on his computer and called Nell.

  He really needed a friendly voice disconnected from everything in that moment.

  Nell popped up on screen a minute later. She was in her kitchen, in the middle of making a snack. "Yo."

  Jonathan sighed, leaning back on his bed with his laptop. "Hey you."

  "How was your night?"

  "...Insane."

  At his tone, she stopped. Nell set down the knife and walked over to her laptop. "Nobody's awake," she said, glancing around. "What's up?"

  Jonathan hesitated. He'd pledged never to reveal the group to anyone… but this was Nell. Besides, so long as he kept names and methods out, he wasn't really breaking the pledge. If he couldn't talk to her, he'd go insane.

  "That new group I got invited to?"

  "Bunch of freaks?" said Nell, grinning.

  "Nah. But… well, we did something tonight."

  She frowned. "Okay, dancing around the details here. Just spit it out, dude."

  "We did something big."

  Nell's face started to twist with annoyance as Jonathan turned away to cast a quick spell, muffling his door to prevent noise getting out. Without warning, he launched into the whole story—getting invited after his support group, meeting the other three, planning the strike, and the sheer rush of pulling it off. Nell listened through the whole thing, eyes lighting up at times, frowning at others. Jonathan couldn't quite figure out how she'd react, but he knew he needed to tell her.

  "...Wow," said Nell finally.

  "Yeah," said Jonathan excitedly. "Everybody will know by tomorrow, I'm sure. This is how we get our message out."

  "Uh-huh."

  He paused. She didn't seem as excited as him. Thoughtful, mostly. "What?" Jonathan hesitated again, suddenly worried. "You think it was a terrible idea? That we screwed up doing this?"

  "Well, I know you seem happier than I've seen you in months," said Nell, "and that's awesome. And that Felix guy sure as hell deserves to lose his stuff. But… you know I'm still worried about you, right?"

  "There's no way he saw anything."

  "It's not like there are that many awakened," Nell pointed out, "and even less who can do magic like that."

  "None of us live in the area," said Jonathan. "And nobody even knows my real name in public."

  She nodded. "Yeah, you'll probably be fine. I dunno if you'll actually get the results you want, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, do you really think he's gonna just play right into your hands here?" Nell shrugged. "He's from big media, right? He'll know as good as anybody that what you want is publicity. Is he just gonna hand it to you?"

  "That's…" Jonathan sighed. "Yeah, okay, good point."

  "Just saying, don't be surprised if you don't hear a word tomorrow." Nell shrugged. "But seriously man, I'm happy for you. Just… be careful. Promise?"

  Jonathan nodded. "I promise."

  "Cool." Nell glanced at the clock. "Now get some sleep, dude. You look exhausted."