Page 92 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

But right now, Gael used his skills to pick and poke, which tactically Kenzo admired. Overall, though, Kenzo also had an obnoxious ability over Gael, too. His being a way to centerGael’s mind, show him alternative study styles, create habits that wouldn't give him a headache, and make him acknowledge how fucking smart he was.

“That’s what I thought. I know I’m not that smart, but I know you’re avoiding those unresolved issues, so maybe we don’t mock me for being dumb enough to—”

“I didn’t,” Kenzo blurted. “I wasn’t. I was…”

Kenzo struggled to find leisure reading that Gael enjoyed, but he wanted to keep Gael actively growing, even if he thought he was just having fun with a graphic novel. Everything he did was to encourage Gael. It hurt Kenzo, creating this painful pit in his stomach for how he worried about Gael, how he wanted to find ways to keep him smiling. Not simply smiling but smiling with pride in himself. He disliked how someone so clever, so considerate didn’t think he was smart enough for his dreams.

I so rarely observed Gael’s depression—his infectious optimism always shining brightly—that I forgot he still struggled with his self-worth like so many.

“Yeah, I’m back,” Gael said into his headset.

Kenzo sat quietly, allowing Gael to sulk and game away his feelings, struggling to process his own. During a lull in the military murder game, Gael kissed Kenzo’s knee with wet and sloppy lips that said sorry. And if Kenzo didn’t catch that—which he did—Gael vocalized it.

“I’m sorry for being bratty.” He turned off his game. “And no, this is not an apology to teach you how apologies work. How mean would that be? God, how big of a jerk am I for even thinking that? Like I wasn’tthinkingit, thinking it, but it crossed my mind, and if I thought it, you definitely probably maybe also thought it. And it was this awkward elephant in the room, but not a real one. A metaphorical elephant. I just got caught up in—”

“You’re fine, love.” Kenzo squeezed his legs tighter around Gael, a hug without hugging. An ‘I love you’ without saying it. Kenzo rarely used names, mostly just nicknames meant to hack down a person’s self-worth to match Kenzo’s state of being. But very rarely, he’d say love or pet or something else he found equally absurd because it made his heart beat faster seeing Gael get flustered and happy and speechless. God, how Kenzo loved when his talkative Gael was left speechless.

“What’s the name of that book again?” Kenzo made a note to buy a new copy. “We can study something else. Maybe you can teach me how to—”

“Or, or, or! What if we replaced study time with an impromptu make out session?” Gael wiggled his eyebrows, hinting how he casually dropped a second vocab word. “I can do that thing with my tongue you like. You know when you pull—”

Kenzo leaned forward, his head upside down when he kissed Gael. “I’m just gonna take this make out time out of your future gaming time.”

Gael quirked his brows, smirking with his shark-like teeth. “What if I did that other thing with my tongue that you really like?”

Kenzo smiled, something he often struggled to fight when basking in Gael’s cheerful energy. Gael’s orange aura radiated as he eagerly delighted in Kenzo’s softer side, even if the sourpuss went right back to frowning before he pulled Gael into another kiss.

I drifted away, allowing them their privacy as I continued training my telepathy. It’d grown so much so soon, and if I kept this up I’d be ready for any threat. Any danger that dared step into Chicago.

“Damn.” I shook away the last fragments of Kenzo’s fury that fanned the flames of my own anger. Anger I held for The TrueWitch, for Theodore Whitlock, for anyone who threatened the happiness of the people I cared for.

My telepathy fluttered through the currents of summer heat kicking in a bit earlier than expected, even if it was nearly the end of April. Psychic energy rippled aimlessly like leaves dancing in the streets. Finally, I locked in on a familiar mind, a friendly mind, a mind I’d seen struggle with quiet anxiety for years now. A struggle that hit him the day he saved my life against all the odds.

But Carter wasn’t nervous about whether or not his branch was good enough to help others. He’d finally grown past that trauma, that lingering fear that ate away at him, and now he fought his biggest, most threatening battle ever.

Christ, this kid’s emotional state was a wreck of dramatic overthinking.

He’d kissed Jennifer. He’d finally told her how he felt. He’d reached out and offered every drop of his vitality to protect her from the explosion. And then they’d survived. They’d survived like everyone had survived. Now Carter didn’t know what the fuck to do with himself, with his feelings, with his words, with his hands that fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket—a jacket he suddenly hated, feeling overdressed—as he walked to the table to meet Jennifer.

Bev’s Pizza Palace was a spot where they loved to dine. Great food. Queer history tucked away in this hole-in-the-wall eatery that was filled with booths, scattered rainbow-clothed tables, and a variety of arcade games. Casual. Cool. And just a fun place to waste a lot of hours with a good friend.

“But are we even friends anymore?” Carter swallowed the lump stuck in his throat and took a seat. “Can you be friends with someone you kissed? Sure. Maybe. Not if you still like them. Still lo… Jennifer’s gonna be so pissed if I don’t deal with these dread bunnies and the butterflies. Fuck, feelings suck.”

Jennifer sat across from Carter, her mind a blank slate, completely silent, which seemed skillful at first. I’d almost considered she’d mastered some new degree of psychic precision, but in actuality, her thoughts were quiet because her empathy magic stretched far and wide, linking and unlinking to everyone on the city block.

It kept her calm, clear-headed, too busy to think, to feel, to figure out whether or not Carter felt the same way for her.

“We were about to die.” She pursed her lips into a frown over Carter’s late arrival, and they ordered their meal. “He only kissed me because he thought we were about to die. Dead. Gone. Fuck—how nice would that be right now? Did he mean what he said? Was it spur of the moment?”

They didn’t speak, they leapt through their thoughts, and they made the cringiest smiles as they avoided eye contact. Ugh. It was painful to watch. Almost as painful as the small talk Carter led with on the weather.

“Seriously?” I huffed to myself. “The weather? The most generic fucking thing ever.”

I wanted to shake these two, to tell them how the other felt, but I just rolled my eyes and hoped for the best.

Jennifer strummed her fingers against the booth, ignoring her scorching hot pizza that’d arrived and fought to keep her words inside. She’d changed her nails, keeping them black with tiny little cartoony explosions artistically stenciled on. Really? Did she commemorate the destruction of Gemini Academy?

“Do you like me?” Jennifer blurted. “Like actually like me, or was that kiss just something to check off your bucket list before dying?”

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