“Wait,” Nat said. “Why did you both say ‘ow’?”
I rubbed the back of my head where Kate had hit me, feeling as if I had been zapped with static.
“He zapped me. Or maybe I zapped him.”
“And you felt it?” Nat asked.
We both nodded.
“We’re storm riders, we hold onto lightning bolts for a ride. A zap of static shouldn’t do dick to us.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to my noggin,” I said. The zap had felt weird besides feeling it at all, though.
“And my hand,” Kate said.
“Kate, were you holding a charge? Were you trying to zap him?”
She shook her head. She was shaking her hand, too.
“Reilly?”
“I just popped, so didn’t have anything left.” I said, scratching the spot she hit.
“So it might have just been the static created by her hand in your hair?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“It didn’t feel right, though.” Kate said. “My fingers kind of went numb for a second. Now it’s pins and needles.”
“What about you, Reilly?”
“My head itches, but that’s it.”
“You all should probably take your cobbler and go,” our server said, suddenly, the Iowa twang, plain.
“Why?” Nat asked.
“You’re acting weird, and people are staring.”
We looked around and did see that people were staring at us. They didn’t flinch as we eyed them, either.
“Okay,” Nat said.
“Aw, man, I don’t want to eat cold cobbler,” I said.