***EVAN***

On Sunday morning, I hear from Jay that he's going to Elena to get his cast off. I text him back and say, "Don't forget your rocket launcher."

After lunch, I text him again to see if he's okay. I get no response, and it's hard to resist the urge to text away incessantly every minute or so. But I can't help but worry. What's Elena doing to him besides undoing that unbreakable cast?

After several hours of nothing, not even when I've checked in with Jeremy, Harris, Kevin, Morgan, and Michelle to see if they've heard anything, I decide I can't wait any longer. Even though it's still daylight (this close to the summer solstice, the sun doesn't set till around eight), I take off flying to Jay's house. I know I'm not supposed to, but today, I feel I have to.

When I get there, I'm surprised to see that Jay's window is closed. The blinds, however, are still open. I see him stirring softly on his bed - is he sleeping? He does tend to toss and turn in his sleep. More importantly, how can he sleep when his room's all closed off? It must be boiling hot in there. On the other hand, I notice that he's got his left arm dangling, cast-less and bare, over the side of his bed.

But I'm still not sure if he's asleep or not - his head's turned away from me. So, rather than try and knock on the glass, I decide to go in through the front door. Jay's mom answers my knock and lets me in, and when I ask about him, she says, "He's...well, he's really scared. Something happened while he was at Elena's lab today, and he doesn't wanna talk to anyone about it." She looks over at Mr. Cross, who's sitting somberly on the living-room sofa next to her. "He told me, though."

Mr. Cross clears his throat. "So you remember how the cast was infused with nanites?"

"Yeah, which is why my dad couldn't break it."

"Turns out..." Mr. Cross puts his hand over his mouth for a second, stroking the five o'clock shadow above his lip. "Those warlocks that Elena has under her control, the ones you kids have been calling 'zombie-warlocks,' they're controlled by the same kinds of nanites. And according to Elena, Jay still has some nanites in his arm. They'll, er..." He clears his throat. "They'll increase his powers temporarily, but also allow him to do some really lethal moves. And...and he's afraid Elena's going to make him hurt the people he loves."

I shake my head, not wanting to believe what I'm hearing. "If I know Jay, nobody can make him do anything."

"That's what I said," says Mrs. Cross. "He's too much of a rebel."

"He's only a rebel to you, Bonnie," says Mr. Cross, "because he won't go to church anymore. How many times have I told you I was the same way at his age?"

"Yeah, he won't go to church," says Mrs. Cross. "Among other things."

I'd stand up, but I've already been standing the whole time. "I wanna talk to him."

"He's upstairs," says Mr. Cross. "I trust you know by now where his room is?"

Mrs. Cross knits her eyebrows at her husband for a second, then relaxes as she looks at me. "He won't listen to any of us," she says. "But if anyone can get through to him...it'd probably be you."

"You really think so?"

She smiles softly. "Jay may think I don't approve of your relationship, but he's dead wrong. And you can tell him that from me."

I smile back at her before climbing the stairs. It's never occurred to me before just how tiny the upper-floor landing really is. It's a long but narrow space, one that I'm sure is a fire hazard by today's standards.

Jay's room, on the other hand, feels more open, only because his bedroom window faces the early-evening sun as it streams in. He lets me in, but he doesn't make a move to get off his bed. He's curled up in a ball on top of his comforter, trembling slightly.

"Your parents told me what happened," I say, reaching out to take his hand.

He flinches away, whispering, "Don't touch me. Please."

"Look, I know you're scared. Remember, you're talking to the girl who got sent to Gallagher House for panic disorder." I drag Jay's ugly old gaming chair across the floor and sit in it so I'm a little closer to his level. "They didn't exactly cure my condition that year," I say. "I still get panic attacks all the time, as you've seen. And I...well, I came to see you because I had another one today just from waiting for you to say you'd gotten home."

He rolls over, showing his face - and the raccoon-like dark circles around his eyes. I know all too well what that means. Elena scared the shit out of him, and now he's tired but can't sleep.

"If you think you're gonna fall victim to some kind of zombie-warlock mind control," I say, "you've probably forgotten just how you you really are." I get up and cross over to Jay's iPod and speakers. "I love you. But I'm not the only one who does." My thumb spins around the click wheel as I go through the alphabetically-ordered song list until I find one that I know will make him feel better - "Collar Full," by Panic! At The Disco. Sweet synthrock plays, and I know when I take his hand this time, he won't let go. He doesn't. "I know you spent a long time feeling alone, but those days are over. You've got us - you've got friends."

I look to my right and see Jay's parents hovering by the open door, with Jeremy's little Croc-clad feet barely visible behind those of Mrs. Cross in her bedroom slippers. All three wave silently to me, then move on, giving me and Jay our space again.

"That's why I'm scared," Jay says. "If I hurt you - any of you-"

"You won't." I climb onto Jay's bed and sit next to him, then he moves himself close to me, resting his head in my lap. I stroke his hair in time to the song as Brendon Urie sings, in that beautiful voice of his, "Show me your love, your love, your love, your love..."

If this could be the end of a movie right here, this would be pure perfection. Jay, who's humming the song (a very good sign) would almost certainly agree.

"You know why I let you in just now?" he asks.

"Why?"

"Because unlike my parents, or my brother...if those nanites made me attack you, I know you'd fight back. And that you would win." He looks up at me, an upside-down smile on his face.

Before he can put his glasses on, I gently push his head off my lap so I can kiss him without doubling over. Upside-down kissing, just like in the old Spider-Man movie with Tobey Maguire.

"Feel better, Jay?" I ask as he reaches over to his bedside table, where his glasses have been resting all this time.

"I'm still scared." He lays his head on me again - this time on my shoulder. "But hey, you're right. The fear doesn't go away completely, does it?"

"No, but that's how you know you're human, right?"

He kisses my neck - gently, not like he's trying to leave a hickey. "Best girlfriend ever," he says. Even though his iPod has changed songs, he's still humming that one Panic! tune as he clings to me. I may not be his first love, but I'm glad he's mine. I've probably said this before, but Jay's everything I could ever want in a guy - creative, snarky, sensitive, and unafraid to show his feelings. Not to mention his understated sex appeal. Wink, wink.

"Do you..." I stop and clear my throat. "Do you wanna talk about...whatever it is Elena says the nanites can have you do now?"

"I thought you said my parents told you everything."

"They didn't get into the details."

He lets go of me and stands in the center of the room. "I'm not sure if I can do it unless I'm actually stabbing something, but...I'll try." He holds up his left fist, then a set of three Wolverine-like icicle blades spring out of his knuckles. At first, I'm stricken with a flash of pure green envy - icicle blades are a very hard Ice trick to pull off, and since he's only been an Ice for less than six months while I've had my whole life to practice...

But then he twists his wrist, moving his fist while the blades stay stationary. For a split second, anyway. Then the blades fall to the floor.

"Guess it doesn't work when I'm stabbing the air," Jay says with a shrug. "But if I were stabbing something solid, I could blast it with super-chilled air."

My eyes must be bugging out now - but I'm not feeling quite so jealous anymore. Not consciously, anyway. "And that's the nanites doing that?"

"I think they also do the spikes," he says. "Isn't that some expert-level Ice fighting move?" At least he knows this should be beyond his limits, especially since Ice isn't his dominant power. "But the super-chilled air thing, that's meant to kill targets by instantly freezing them."

"Yeah..." My voice trails off for a second, then I clear my throat and speak up again. "Yeah, that's...that's not supposed to even be possible."

"At least I should have used up some of my nanites making the spikes," Jay says. "Although I've been able to make these before, but not this big. And never more than one at a time. And only in my sleep." He picks up the blades before they start melting on his floor. Then he opens his window and is about to drop the spikes on the ground outside, but he stops and crushes them to snowy powder in his hands. "Yeah, last time I dropped an Ice spike down there, my dad almost broke his neck," he says. "Even though that time was in winter, and the Ice couldn't melt like it would today." He scatters the powder into the air, watching it drift away on the gentle breeze.

"See?" I get up and take Jay's hand, feeling some of the last remnants of that snow on his palm. "You're more lethal to your dad by accident than on purpose."

"I...guess that's a compliment?"

"You guess." I shield my eyes against the sun as I continue to look outside. "You'll be all right, Jay. Okay? I promise."

His mouth twitches as he tries not to smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"'Yeah,'" I say, grinning as he abandons all pretense and matches my own expression. "'But those are the best kind.'" I know, he's the one who's supposed to say that line to me. But despite our vague resemblances to both halves of his favorite couple, he's not Peter Parker, and I'm not Gwen Stacy. (Besides, who's to say there wouldn't have been a moment when Gwen could have said the latter line to Peter? That would've been a nice fond memory for the fans - if only the studios hadn't gone and shit-canned the series.)

Mrs. Cross comes in not long after this and says I'm welcome to stay for dinner. I'm about to politely decline, but something tells me I shouldn't. So I say yes, and text my parents to let them know where I'll be for the next hour or two.

According to Jay, Sunday night at his place is usually frozen pizza night. Normally, Mrs. Cross and Jeremy split a Hawaiian pizza, to the disgust of Jay and his dad, who go for a meat-lovers' pie. I get to try some of each, and threaten to kiss Jay on the lips after eating my first slice of Hawaiian. The look of surprise and, dare I say, disgust on his face... "You don't like pineapple?" I ask.

"I do," Jay says, "but not on pizza."

"As the only Italian parent here," says Mr. Cross, "I should have put my foot down when the wife insisted on trying to teach these boys to quote-unquote 'blend in' with other Californians."

"And I only taught one to blend in with me," Mrs. Cross says, pouting at her husband. Have they had this argument before? Probably, but not in front of an outsider like me.

It occurs to me while we eat that this is the first time I've had dinner with Jay's family. Seems like he and I are taking a few steps in our relationship out of order - shouldn't I have met his parents properly before having sex with him? But that's okay - I feel like, unconventional though it might be, our relationship's healthy and organic. And at least the Cross parents aren't going out of their way to make me uncomfortable - I get the feeling they're behaving like normal, with only a little bit of adjustment for my presence.

It's Jay's mom who asks me the most questions - like, what's my favorite TV show, do I have any tattoos, that sort of thing. No, seriously, she asks if I have any tattoos, but she does so with her tongue firmly in her cheek. My response? "The only one who has the privilege of seeing it is Jay."

Jay, naturally, builds on the joke as only he can. "That must've really hurt, huh? Getting that sweet star tat right on your hipbone like that?"

"It's worth it knowing that you get to kiss it," I say. To Mrs. Cross, who's blushing but also laughing her head off, I say, "I dunno which of you parents passed on their kissing genes to Jay, but thank you so much!"

Jeremy massively om-nom-noms away at his pizza for a while. Then when there's a break in the laughter at last, he says, "So if this is what it's gonna be like when I have a girlfriend, can I start dating now? Or am I still not allowed?"

"You are allowed!" says Mr. Cross.

"Yeah," Jay chimes in. "I only told you that 'cause I was forbidden from dating at your age."

"You were not!" cries Mrs. Cross.

"Lies!" Jay declares, nudging me gently as he really goes into a frenzy. "Lies, damned lies and statistics!"

"What does that even mean?" his mom asks, flabbergasted even though she probably understands the reference.

And so dinner goes on like this, to the point where I start to think maybe it's not so normal for the Crosses to get this loud and boisterous. But at least I've added some fuel to the fire. Come eight o'clock, we're all done eating, and I get to say my goodbyes to the family.

Jay gets a special, additional whispered message from me when I hug him. "I'm coming back later, okay?"

"Please," he whispers back.

Two hours later, I'm pretending to settle into bed for the night, but eagerly awaiting sneaking over to Jay's room. He and I agreed before not to sleep together on school nights, but I want to make sure, one last time, that he's okay. Laughter may be the best medicine, but giving Jay another form of release should help him put the worst of today's panic attack behind him.

When I knock on his window, I see him sitting on his bed, already stripped down to his underwear, playing some game on his phone. He puts that aside before letting me in, then sighs as I nuzzle his chest (and speaking of which, when did he start growing such impressive chest hair?)

"We should try to be a little quiet," he whispers as he takes me back to his bed. "Jeremy's told me he can hear us."

"That's...embarrassing," I say. "But no promises."

I don't exactly do a good job of toning down the noise level. I'm too busy enjoying myself. Not only because of how blissful it feels to have Jay inside me, but also because he so clearly needs this. He's a little more aggressive than usual - it's probably because he couldn't fight this week in Harris' garage - and I enjoy the sex that much more myself. Hell, maybe I'll ask him to fight less if it means he'll be that much more of an animal in bed. He probably wouldn't, though. His favorite part is cuddling me afterwards, and tonight, when he covers me like a human blanket and I feel his sweat mixing with mine, is no exception.

If only every part of our lives felt this happy and beautiful.

My last thought before going to sleep is the sudden recollection that it actually isn't a school night after all. It's Memorial Day weekend, so we have Monday off. And weren't we going to go to San Jose to meet with Morgan and Anjali and see Tomorrowland?

I'll just have to ask Jay in the morning.