Watch You Burn

by Amanda Searcy

  I make a left toward Emma’s table. I shove in beside her and give her a fierce glare that says Don’t mess with me today. She starts to protest but backs down. “Whatever,” she mumbles.

  * * *

  —

  “Did I do something?” Ben asks. I haven’t said a word to him since I got to the clinic. I’ve handed him the clipboard and taken it back. That’s been the extent of our contact.

  I press the clipboard into his stomach. “Here’s your next patient.”

  I shouldn’t be mad at Ben. He didn’t lead me on. It’s not like we were dating and he slept with Kara behind my back. He’s a free agent. He can do whatever he wants.

  But the jealousy comes roaring back and fills my veins. Why would he pick Kara over me?

  On Ben’s third attempt to quiz me on what’s wrong, the door opens. A man helps Ro inside. She’s hopping on one foot. I jump up. “What happened?”

  Ro turns toward me and away from Ben. She winks. “Ow, ow, ow,” she says.

  “We’ll get you in to see Doc,” the man says, and starts to hand her over to Ben.

  “No,” Ro says. “Not him.” She points to me. “Her.”

  I step forward and take her arm. She wraps it around my shoulders. “I thought you could use some moral support,” she whispers into my ear.

  I have never loved a friend as much as I love Ro in that moment.

  We hobble into the exam room, and Doc helps her onto the exam table. She holds my hand. “I want her to stay.” She twists her face like she’s terrified to be alone with Doc. If her school has a drama program, she should be in it.

  “Okay,” Doc says. He glances at me. I nod.

  He takes her shoe off and starts twisting and squeezing her ankle. She lets out an “ow,” but otherwise looks around the room with disinterest.

  Doc finishes his exam. “I only have ibuprofen,” he says.

  Ro gets his meaning and looks offended.

  “It’s strained. I’ll get you an ice pack. Stay off it for the rest of the night, and you should be good as new tomorrow.” He leaves to go to the kitchen.

  Ro puts a hand on her hip. “Does he think I’m some kind of pill whore?”

  “Don’t take it personally. He sees a lot of that. Thanks for coming. It’s been awful with Ben today.”

  A smile lights up Ro’s face. She drops it when Doc comes back in with her ice pack and ibuprofen.

  I help her back out to the porch. It’s later than I thought. Cam is waiting, wide-awake, outside. Ben’s at the truck window, hands out to his sides, pleading with him.

  Ro gives up the hobble and walks over to the truck. She glares at Ben. He’s taken aback. She climbs inside, putting the ice pack on the dash.

  “Jenny,” Ben says. But I don’t look at him as I crawl in behind Ro.

  We pull away. Cam turns to me and opens his mouth.

  I stop him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  Ro crosses her arms and glares at him in solidarity.

  Cam’s mouth clamps shut.

  The wind has wrapped my hair halfway around my head in the three steps between my room and the office. I peel it out of my eyes.

  “Apparently, the wind blows a lot here in April,” Monica says, looking over the paper. It’s also hot one day and cold the next. The plants are confused. They start to bloom only to be pulverized by the frost.

  I sit down across from her. “You aren’t from here?”

  She laughs. “No. I was living in Colorado with—” With my dad.

  “It’s okay,” I say. It’s not like I ever harbored any dreams of my parents getting back together. My mom is happy with Brian.

  The jury’s still out on Monica. I think I could like her, but it’ll take a long time to get over her paying Cam to watch me. And I still don’t know how much she’s figured out about my past—or my present.

  I take my coffee back to my room and stare at my bee uniform. I’m going to have to put it on and go to school. I’m going to have to see Kara again.

  FaceTime rings. I check the time. It’s too late in Ohio. My heart starts to pound. My fingers shake as I answer.

  Hailey’s head pops up on the screen. No adults hover behind her.

  “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you at school? Where’s Mom?”

  She jerks back at my barrage. “It’s in-service day for the teachers. Mom’s at work. Mrs. Jenkins is here.”

  Mrs. Jenkins is our elderly neighbor who sits for Hailey when Mom can’t find anyone else.

  “You’re not supposed to be on the computer without an adult.” My tone comes out far harsher than I intend—a product of the adrenaline still coursing through me. “But I’m glad to see you,” I say, and hope that makes up for it.

  Hailey looks worried. “Do you have your hat? I don’t want you to be scared.”

  “Of course I have my hat. Why would I be scared?”

  She leans into the screen until her eyes and nose are giant. “Because of the fires.”

  My heart sets off at a gallop again. “What fires, Hailey?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to be listening, but I was.” She glances over her shoulder, but no one has entered the room. “Mom and Dad were talking about fires near your motel. I don’t want you to be scared.”

  Her eyes are glassy. My heart breaks into a million pieces. We all tried to shelter her from what happened to me when I was her age, but it was impossible. People in our town are still talking about it ten years later.

  “I don’t want you to be scared either. Those fires were in the woods a long way from here. They didn’t hurt any people or burn any houses. Besides, our firefighters are the best.”

  Hailey’s little chest swells with pride. Her father’s a firefighter. That’s how Brian got dragged into everything in the first place.

  “If I ever get scared, I’ll put my hat on, and it will make me feel better. I promise.” I try not to cringe. Of all the things I own, why did I have to wear Hailey’s hat on my midnight walks? Why couldn’t I have picked something else? Now the hat is tainted. It will never be a sweet, innocent gift from my little sister again. I did that. No one else is to blame.

  “Okay,” Hailey says. But she doesn’t smile. I have to look away to regain my composure.

  I look back, a smile on my face. “Mrs. Jenkins is going to notice that you’re gone. Why don’t you go ask her to make her famous chocolate chip cookies? Then when you eat one, think really hard about me. I bet I’ll be able to taste it.”

  Hailey nods.

  “I love you, bug,” I say.

  “Love you too.” The screen goes black on her side.

  * * *

  —

  “Huh,” Ro says. She’s flopped over on my bed, messing with my phone. “Huh,” she says again.

  “What?” I ask since it’s pretty clear that’s her desired response.

  “The bitch posted a picture of herself.”

  “Kara? No. Her parents don’t let her do social media.”

  Ro sits up and shoves the phone in my face. On it is someone I don’t recognize. “That’s not Kara.”

  Ro pokes the phone and pushes it at me again. In the time I have before the picture disappears, I see that it is Kara. A Kara I’ve never seen before. Her glasses are off; her hair is curled and teased; she’s wearing a ton of makeup—but she must know what she’s doing, since it looks professional and effortless. Her top is low-cut.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. But her earrings don’t match her necklace,” Ro says with disgust. I laugh. Ro has never let on that she cared a thing about jewelry—or hair or makeup. Only clothes. Ro loves clothes.

  One more shove of the phone in my face, and I see that Kara’s silver necklace with a turquoise pendant indeed does not match her gold hoop earrings.

  “How’
d you find that photo?”

  Ro flops back down onto the bed. “Emma shared it. Kara’s going to a club tonight. That skeevy all-ages one with the glow-in-the-dark, over-twenty-one wristbands. I’ve heard everybody gets one whether you show ID or not.”

  “Good for her.”

  “We could go, and you could tell her what a bitch she is.”

  “If I wanted to call Kara names, I could have done that a hundred times now at school.”

  “You’re right. Let that jerk take her sorry drunk ass home.”

  I look up at Ro. “Ben? Is he going to be there too?”

  Ro shrugs. “We could go and find out. You could catch them red-handed.”

  Do I really want to see them together? No. But part of me wants to let them know that I know. To stand next to Kara so that Ben can see what he could have had, but won’t now. Ever.

  “Let’s go to the club.”

  Ro bounces to the wardrobe and starts tossing everything out onto the bed. I know better than to interfere. She’s going to dress me however she wants, whether I like it or not.

  * * *

  —

  The club is called Legit—which it definitely is not.

  “This is too many people, Ro,” I say as we join the line outside. They aren’t waiting for anyone to come out before letting others in. The guy at the door just takes the money, and more people jam themselves inside.

  “It’s fine,” Ro says. Cam sulks behind her. He drove us here, but I think the only reason he came was to keep up the show for Monica. So she wouldn’t find out that that juvenile delinquent Jenny was at a club.

  I bounce on my toes in the heels Ro picked out. I’m also wearing a fuchsia dress with a blue flower print. It’s long-sleeved and cinched around the waist with a matching belt. It’s cute. I don’t remember which of my binge-shopping-with-Mom’s-money trips I bought it on, but Ro pulled it out of the wardrobe and declared it to be “the one.” She’s wearing a simple black dress with a black leather jacket.

  She didn’t dress Cam. He’s got on jeans and a maroon polo shirt—tucked in. The preppiest-looking hoodie I have ever seen is tied over his shoulders. If he wasn’t such a big guy, he’d get beaten up by this crowd.

  When we get to the front of the line, I glance inside. Way too many people. I wipe a sweaty palm against my dress over and over again. There’s no way everyone would make it out in an emergency.

  This isn’t worth it just to confront Kara and Ben. I try to back away, but Ro pulls the money I’m holding out of my hand. Ninety bucks. Thirty for each of us. That’s the I-don’t-have-a-fake-ID admission to this club. It buys us three glowing over-twenty-one wristbands. Thanks, Mom.

  Ro seals my wristband around my arm. “No,” I whisper. I can’t go in. Too many people.

  Ro pushes me from behind. Cam follows her. Soon we’re standing in the hot, humid room with hundreds of people jumping up and down in the flashing strobe lights.

  My head starts to spin. Too hot. Too loud. Too many people. Once I find Ben and Kara, I’m out of here.

  Ro grabs me by the hand and Cam by the shirtsleeve. She pulls us farther into the pulsating throng. I’m jostled and grabbed by the crowd. My back is against Ro, who is bouncing to the beat. A woman in a silver minidress gyrates against Cam. Somewhere along the way he’s lost his hoodie.

  Emergency exits: I have to find them.

  I shove my way through to the bar. My dress is twisted around one way and then the other. My feet are stepped on, my toes mashed.

  I see one glowing exit sign in the back. Only one exit sign for all these people. I slap my hand over my mouth. I’m going to throw up.

  I catch a glimpse of Kara, but no Ben. I follow her around the perimeter of the club, but every time I make a move toward her, another sweaty, drunken body crosses in front of me. I see another exit. A door painted black to match the walls. Another way out. Another chance at life for these people. A chance that’s blocked by a heavy amplifier.

  I run up to the amp and try to shove it out of the way. It’s half as tall as I am, and it doesn’t budge. I look around. Kara is gone. I have to tell someone. Tell them about the blocked exit.

  I work my way back to the bar. I’m sweating through my dress, but not because of the heat. My heart is racing. I can’t catch my breath.

  “The exit!” I yell to the bartender, and point. He raises a hand to his ear, trying to hear me. “The exit is blocked!” I scream. He glances to where I’m pointing and shrugs. He tries to hand me a beer.

  “No! The exit.”

  He turns away. I have to get Ro and Cam out of here.

  I start to wade back into the bodies, but it’s too late. I already smell smoke.

  “Ro!” I scream. “Cam!”

  I see Kara, but she can’t hear me. She’s heading for the back exit. Relief floods through me when I see the door close behind her. She’s out. As mad as I am, I don’t want her to die in a fire.

  I call for Ro and Cam over and over again. It’s getting hard to breathe.

  They never appear. Fire spreads fast. I’m going to have to leave them. When all these people start rushing the exits, they’ll jam up. Anyone who falls will be trampled. I look frantically around the club. Most of these people don’t stand a chance.

  I make a run for it. I’ll get help. That’s all I can do.

  I push through the crowd and tear out the front entrance. They’re still letting in more people.

  “No,” I grab the money-taker’s arm. “Don’t let them in. Fire.”

  He shakes me off. “What did you take?”

  “Fire,” I whimper.

  A bouncer appears in the corner of my eye. He lifts me to my feet. “Time to go home,” he says.

  I kick at him. “Those people in there. They’re going to die!” Why won’t anyone listen to me? “Smoke. There’s smoke.”

  “I’ll bet,” the bouncer says. He half carries and half drags me to the corner and dumps me at the base of a traffic light.

  I look over my shoulder, and I see it. Smoke rising from the building. I can’t breathe. My lungs don’t want to take it in. Ro has my phone in her jacket pocket. There’s nothing I can do. I stumble away, their screams echoing through the night behind me.

  I keep a lookout for the fire trucks as I stumble to the Los Ranchitos, but they never come. I hiccup and gasp for air. My shoes are shredded. Someone whistles at me when I cross through the underpass below the interstate.

  Ro has—had—my key. I want to scream and pound on Dad’s door. Make him get up and do something to help those people. But it will be too late. By now it will just be a story for the morning news.

  I push myself through the bathroom window and fall headfirst into a heap in the bathtub. There’s a shoe print near my nose. A print from Ro’s shoe. Ro. She’s gone. And Ben. I don’t know if he was there. But if he was…

  My tears flow like they’re never going to stop.

  I can make them stop. I hoist myself up and stumble to the dresser. I pull the lighter out and flick it on. I hold the fire now. I’m in control.

  “No!” I say out loud to myself, and click the top shut. I would be diverting resources away from the fire at the club. They’re going to need every fire truck in town to try to save those people. I stuff the lighter back in its spot and open the nightstand drawer.

  I dump two little blue pills into my hand. Nights like tonight are what the pills are for. I toss them into my mouth with such force that I almost choke.

  I lie down on my bed. I smell like sweat and smoky night air. I get up, peel the dress off, and toss it into the corner. I crawl into bed in my underwear.

  Then I pull the duvet over my head and black out the world.

  I peek my sweating head out from under the duvet. Light spills in through the window. The construction equipment rumbles and
crunches outside. I don’t know what day it is. Did I sleep through Sunday?

  A snore next to me. I leap out of bed. Ro rolls over and opens one eye. She closes it. “Where the fuck did you go last night?”

  I lean over and poke her to make sure she’s real. Her eye opens again. I jump back against the dresser. My palm knocks into something on the otherwise clear surface. I glance down and gasp. Under my hand is a silver lighter. Ben’s lighter.

  I wouldn’t have left it out, would I? No. It wasn’t there last night, I’m sure.

  Ro sits up. I sweep the lighter into my hand and shove it behind me. She blinks the sleep out of her eyes and then turns away. “Why are you naked?”

  I look down at my bra and underwear, and the hazy memories of last night start to flood back to me. My eyes water. I grab my coat off the chair and wrap it around me. I pop the lighter into the pocket.

  “What happened? Where were the fire trucks?” I demand.

  Ro rubs her eyes like my being in focus will increase her understanding of me. “Why would there be fire trucks?”

  I pace back and forth. “The emergency exit was blocked. The room was filling with smoke. I tried to find you and get you out.”

  Ro doesn’t say anything.

  “There was a fire at the club. I saw the smoke.”

  Ro sits up on her knees. “They had one of those dry-ice fog machines. Plus, people there were smoking everything you can smoke, and some things that you can’t. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s not exactly a reputable establishment.” She holds up her wrist, still wrapped with the over-twenty-one wristband.

  I collapse into the chair. “There wasn’t a fire.”

  “No. You took off. Then I lost Cam. I waited until the whole club cleared out. He came back, but you were just gone. Cam freaked out about having to explain to your dad and the blond lady that he lost you.”

  I finger the lighter in my pocket. There wasn’t a fire. But I was so sure. I could hear them screaming.