James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - B2

Thirty-Nine

Noah growled, "You know I hate Sebastian," as Mark, Bryce, and I followed him toward the grand entrance of a colossal mansion.

"I hate him too," I admitted, tugging at my sleeves. "But I can tell he's trying to be nicer."

"You think that's being nice?" Noah snapped.

"Just open the door and go inside already, wimp," Mark muttered, nudging Noah forward with a smirk.

It was my first real party. Remember that kid Jacob who kicked me in the ribs during eighth-grade gym? This was his house. His parents were loaded—Hollywood producers with a house that looked like it belonged to a Bond villain. They were off filming in Maui. Jacob's older brother, Garrett, was technically in charge, but after a fight earlier, he bailed to drink with his buddies in WeHo.

As we stepped inside, the music abruptly stopped. One guy dropped his drink. It rolled across the floor, the sound echoing weirdly through the marble halls.

"It's the super-kids from the video!" Jacob called out from somewhere in the back.

The music kicked back in, louder than before.

"See? They love us," Mark muttered, grinning and patting my back before vanishing into the crowd with Bryce.

"James!" Claire's voice cut through the noise. I turned to see her waving from near the makeshift bar. She looked unreal—curled hair, black top, fitted jeans. Sarah stood beside her, sipping something red from a clear cup.

I crossed the room toward her, and as soon as I reached her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into me.

"Hey, babe," I murmured, brushing my lips along her hairline. She smelled like vanilla and lavender. My whole body exhaled.

"Are you doing superhero work tonight?" she asked, tilting her head up at me.

"I think so," I said, fingers tracing slow circles along her spine. "But we still haven't talked to Henry about El Señor de los Tigres' son."

She smiled slightly but looked distant—off in her own thoughts.

That's when I felt it. My hands resting on her waist... something was different. Softer. Subtler. A shift I hadn't noticed before. A warmth that wasn't there last week.

I blinked and stared at her belly, then back at her eyes.

"...Are you...?" I asked quietly.

She hesitated. Her lips parted, then curled slightly, uncertain. "Maybe?"

Something inside me caved in and lit up at the same time.

I exhaled hard, pressed my forehead to hers, and kissed her—slow, deep, full of fear and wonder and love. My arms tightened around her like I could keep the entire world out.

And then—

We rose.

I didn't even realize we were lifting off the ground until Claire clutched at the front of my jacket and whispered, "James... you're floating."

"I know," I murmured, kissing her again. "I don't care."

Phones were already out. Dozens of them. Red record dots blinking from the corners of the party. Kids whispering. Some gasping. Others just straight-up filming like this was another viral moment waiting to happen.

I saw the flashes, the little phone lights flicking on.

Didn't matter.

For once, I didn't care who saw. The weight of the world could crash in later—right now, I just wanted to float with her. Just be hers. Just be here.