[2020 Watty Award Winner!]
[BOOK 1 OF THE HAVOC SERIES]
❝you may be the best web-slinger
around, but you're terrible
at keeping secrets.❞
in which even though peter has a new,
high-tech suit, it doesn't stop a girl with
common sense from discove...
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ON BAD DAYS, LENA can't control her energy levels. They zoom through the roof, causing her to bounce off the walls and shake uncontrollably. Times like these make her unable to even think straight. She often feels like she's going to combust then and there if she doesn't do something about it. She's a ticking time bomb about to explode, a catastrophe trapped in human skin.
Usually, there are three options: a) take a run around New York City, which isn't always the best plan due to heavy traffic and the number of civilians, b) curl into a ball and hope she doesn't actually explode, or c) show up at her best friend's door unexpectedly and hope to all the forces above that he's home.
Luckily, this time, he is. Graham Seager whisks open the door to his apartment immediately after she finishes knocking. Though Lena is tall, her friend is considerably more so, standing above six feet so he has to look down at her. His dark skin shows his mixture of African-American and Caucasian heritage that he'd inherited from his parents. His clothes are as casual as always– an unbuttoned flannel with a graphic tee beneath it and dark jeans. The sight of him alone is enough to calm Lena's nerves a fraction.
His dark brows crease in concern as he quickly examines her wild eyes, twitching hands running through her wild tangle of brunette hair, and bouncing feet. His own coffee-colored eyes widen in realization.
Putting an arm around her to partially obscure her from the view of his parents and brothers, Graham ushers Lena inside and hollers to the rest of his family that she's here. He doesn't give them any time for hellos before she's pulled into his room and the door is firmly closed.
Graham and Lena have been friends long enough that it's not alarming to their parents for the door to be shut. Because of this, they don't have to worry about the possibility of someone coming in and asking questions. That's why she comes here. One, because her adoptive parents would disown her if they knew about this, and two, because he's good at distracting her.
She sits on his springy mattress, carefully avoiding the deathly sharp corner of its metal frame— she's slammed her ankle against it more times than she can count. A shudder rips through her as a small cloud of blue-tinted energy emits from her body. It's gentle, but still causes his furniture to rattle a bit.
"Talk," Lena demands through shaking breaths. She's trembling from head to toe, though that accidental release had brought some minor relief. Her chest is tightening to the point where it almost feels like her ribs will crack. The tension in her jaw is causing it to ache.
They do this often. For some reason, concentrating on Graham's voice seems to calm her episodes down. One time, he'd read a quarter of The Order of the Phoenix aloud until it finally passed. Another, he'd sung his latest piece and played it on the small keyboard in his cluttered bedroom. Anything involving him speaking has a cathartic effect on her constantly racing nerves.
