Infinity Son Adam Silvera (classic books for 12 year olds .txt) 📖

the same phone case. Then again as the only acolyte who fled the fight at the factory. And one last glow and he becomes himself again.

“Pardon me if I got some of the details wrong—keeping track of eye colors or hair length or height doesn’t matter in this moment. But you get what I mean now? New York is huge, Emil. You will see someone once while you’re out and about and never again for the rest of your life. But you keep popping up like a firefly at night.”

“You’re one to talk, Eduardo. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“That’s not my name anymore. Eduardo Iron died during the Blackout,” he says. All his intrigue has been swallowed by darkness. “You’re not the only who gets another shot at life.”

He knows about my origin. More than ever, I hope the Spell Walkers keep him here.

“So what’s your name?”

“Ness Arroyo,” he says.

If I remember right, Arroyo was his mother’s last name. He’s erased every connection to Iron.

“Does your father know you’re alive?”

“No.”

“Maribelle can use that against you if you don’t speak up about June.”

Ness nods, like he’s considered this already. “I imagine the enforcers have a unit devoted to locating this haven, but if the Senator gets word that I’m alive, then that’s when every officer will be dragged out of bed to track me down. He can’t risk the country discovering that his entire campaign is a lie, not this close to the election.”

He calls his father the Senator. It reminds me of when Brighton and I were kids and he got pissed at Dad, so he called him Leonardo for a week. It was so impersonal, and Dad refused to let Brighton win by showing how much it bothered him.

“Is teaming with the Blood Casters really better than living under Iron’s roof?” I ask.

Ness rises. He’s maybe an inch or two shorter than me, but my heart races because of how powerful he feels with his leveled shoulders and intense stare. “The gang has turned me inside out. They carved me into someone dangerous and brilliant.” He shakes his leg, and the chain clinks against the floor. “This can’t hold me. I can morph into a child and escape and snap your neck.” He steps toward me, and my fist is on fire. The gray and gold flames light up Ness’s face—the shadows under his eyes, the exhausting defeat I see in the mirror as well. “The Senator used me as a pawn and mouthpiece of my generation time and time again. He made sure everyone saw a child grieving a mother he lost to celestial violence. The Blood Casters aren’t innocent by a long shot, but I won’t ever allow the Senator to use my face again.” He turns his back on me and lounges across the floor, using a paper towel roll as a pillow. “Good night, firefly.”

Twenty-FourPowerless

BRIGHTON

I’m on the roof, cooling down with the Crowned Dreamer glowing above me. Emil only has authority because of his power, but I’m still a contender for some power of my own because of my bloodline. Ma hasn’t shown any sign of taking after her mother, but the Crowned Dreamer can hook me up with visions. I could become the powerful clairvoyant my abuelita never was and I can foresee Luna’s next move and protect our team from surprise attacks.

I would prove once again why I shouldn’t be shrugged off.

The door opens, and Prudencia steps out. The chilly wind greets her immediately, and she rubs her bare arms. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You found me.”

“How are you feeling?”

She sits beside me, and her presence calms down the rage that’s been heating me up. I’m still running hot, but I feel more like I’m sitting by a cozy fireplace instead of standing in a burning building. I’m tempted to wrap my arm around her and keep her warm.

“Undervalued,” I say. “Do they not realize what I’ve done for them? And what was with Emil’s garbage about running off to go edit my little video?”

“He didn’t call your videos little.”

“He may as well have. I’m saving the world too.”

“You are, Brighton, but this is a team effort. We all have different roles to play. There are some meetings we shouldn’t sit in and some battles where we should hang back.”

“If Emil is there, I’m there. That’s that.”

Prudencia turns away from the Crowned Dreamer, and I can’t look her in the eye. “Are you there to protect him or prove yourself?”

“I’ve already proven myself, Pru. Sorry if my accomplishments don’t stack up like Emil’s.”

“There is no reason to be jealous of him. He is not enjoying this, but he’s doing his best. You’re both brilliant in your own ways, and you can’t forget that.”

“Oh, come on. There’s nothing brilliant about lucking into powers and having your hand held every step of the way. I’m incredible at what I do because I have worked hard for years.”

Prudencia gets up. “You’re being a lot right now, so I’m going to give you some more time to yourself. Maybe you’ll remember that we’re all in this together.”

She leaves, and I’m not calling her back or chasing her down.

I stay out with the Crowned Dreamer until it becomes uncomfortably cold, and I go inside and get to work on my “little video” in the computer lab. It’s hard rooting for Emil the same way, I can’t lie. He’s running around and throwing fire-darts, and if it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have all this glory. I could easily cut some of these clips of his finer moments; fewer Emil-related GIFs to cross my timeline. But the only thing I’m getting rid of is when Maribelle lunged for June to kill her. Even though June is rolling with the Blood Casters during a cage match, the last thing viewers need is a reason to paint Maribelle as a killer. We have to control the narrative, and this is what’s best.

I’m too exhausted to get up now and