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the school year means Max is back. Have you spoken to your
boyfriend
since he got into town? Actually, the question is, has Gina spoken to you
about
your boyfriend’s
adventure
in La-La Land?”
    That stopped me.
    Gina Pettagola, my semi-friend, was the unquestioned gossip queen of Fep Prep. Although school had been out for the summer, she kept her finger on the pulse of everything about everyone that was none of her business. Besides movies, Doug loved nothing more than a scandal; if Gina knew of one, he would’ve heard about it. Now he pumped a fist, saying, “Boom, gotcha! Okay, so there’s a rumor flying around . . . really, I shouldn’t call it that since it’s true . . . about how your loyal, honest Max had a fling in sun-kissed California. Wait,
fling
implies something transitory. This was a romance.”
    “It’s not true,” I hissed. I’d always had a sneaking suspicion that Max wouldn’t stay with me, and it whispered again now as the blue flame leaped in my gut.
    “I didn’t catch her name, but Gina heard she was tall and blond with two big . . . brown eyes,” Doug said. “And apparently, just the cutest little nose you ever saw. Of course she’s back in California and Max is here, but Gina said . . .”
    His voice was smothered by pounding in my ears as my heart exploded, because I’d lost Max. My brain bulged with that repressed fear as I watched the back of his brown curly head pull away from a laughing blond girl’s face after he’d kissed her—he didn’t turn, but I knew it was Max. The love I had for him was so strong that it made me weak, and my cold fury weakened too, until something danced and crackled through my bones, into my brain. When I looked up, I saw a different Doug than my friend and confidant; instead, he was a bloated bearer of bad news who made it come true simply by delivering it. I tried to free my arms but was cuffed too tightly, so I put all of the murderous voltage behind my eyes. Doug turned and froze, his face a combination of triumph and horror. He’d succeeded in activating the electricity but now his own deep, dark fear stared back, causing a wet spot at the crotch of his pants. I looked into his mind, seeing a film clip of him aimlessly roaming the Bird Cage Club calling out my name and feeling his terror—his only friend had abandoned him. “No,” he said quietly. “Please . . . oh no . . .”
    “Oh yes . . . ,” I said with gleeful hatred, nailing my eyes to his with the need to slit his throat pulsating outward in waves, matching my heartbeat.
    My body jerked against the handcuffs, a loud rattling began, wooden at first and then glassy, and then the universe split and cracked as the wall of windows exploded.
    The shock broke my gaze from Doug’s and he dove beneath the control center, sending books and computers flying. Bound to the chair, all I could do was wait to be cut to pieces, but instead the force blew the glass outward. I watched translucent shards spiral through the air like icy razors, glinting in the moonlight before falling onto the El tracks and surrounding roofs. The Currency Exchange Building was an ancient skyscraper occupying an odd slice of real estate that, throughout the century, had been boxed in by other buildings and the train several stories below; very little glass would reach the empty nighttime sidewalk and whatever did would be blamed on myriad urban accidents. I inhaled deeply, feeling the cold fresh air scrape at my lungs, overcome by an exhaustion that was like being filled with cement. Slowly, Doug climbed out from under the control center and said, “Remind me not to mess with you about Max.”
    I looked at the debris covering the floor and used every ounce of energy I had to say, “What the hell . . . just happened?”
    “You generated a tsunami of electrical current,” Doug answered, looking around in awe. He knelt down, unlocked the handcuffs with clumsy hands, and said, “Which you then