Among the Flames

by Lya Lively

  Don’t judge me, bird.

  I found it odd that we started walking through trees instead of on a bike path or something. Oh my God, he knows I’m following him; this is it. But he didn’t turn around, or change pace, or anything you would expect a suspicious person to do; he just kept walking.

  This was about when I started thinking up excuses I could use when he finds out I’ve been following him. Maybe this was a bad idea. He’s going to think I’m insane for following him unless I thought he was a burglar and I wanted to see why he broke in... Okay, that was completely stupid. Wouldn’t I just call the cops? WHAT IF THE BURGLAR HAD A GUN? And suddenly I was even more terrified of walking around in complete darkness behind someone I wasn’t even completely sure was Noah. The pain in my chest returned, along with the voices that mocked my already fleeting sanity.

  I am just like her.

  Wait, I thought abruptly. Where is he? Lost in my thoughts, I forgot to keep seconds behind him and started wandering aimlessly in the woods. I walked slowly, contemplating my next move, and then I was walking swiftly, then jogging, then running, then sprinting fearfully trying to guess the seconds I was behind him. 6, 7, 8...

  My heart beat grew faster and more determined, while my breaths became shorter and shallower.

  When the trees ended, I was welcomed by the sight of a graveyard, and there he was opening the large steel gates that far too elaborately caged in dead people.

  That is weird actually that they put a gate around dead people, I mean, I know it’s actually to keep the living out or possibly their spirits in, but I found it strange. What if he’s one of those Devil-worshipers and now he’s going to sacrifice my soul to his demon buddies. Now that had to be the absolute dumbest fear that I’d come up with this early, I mean come on Hayden, wake up.

  I was hesitant to follow him, but then I did because what else was there to take from me besides my life? Nothing.

  I stopped instantly when I reached the gate, just close enough to see his body slumped over in front of a gravestone. “Oh no,” I whispered to myself. Tears formed in my eyes as I neared him, my breath grew more shaky and uneven.

  Suddenly the weight of losing my parents settled deep in my gut, that I hadn’t been to the funeral if there had even been one, that I hadn’t seen family or friends make myself feel not so... empty.

  I stood close enough to read the name over his shoulder, “Lisa M. White.” I said aloud.

  “My mom,” his weak body choked out from the wet dirt.

  Suddenly it all made sense; he missed the funeral; his mom was probably the Ms. White who had 'fully paid' for the room, and this was the contractual complication that resulted in me getting a room. I bit my lip to hold back tears. I knew, deep down, that this grave wasn’t my parents, but somehow, deep down, it felt that way.

  “Cancer,” he spoke in simple statements, but I got it.

  I stood helplessly beside him, refusing to look at his sad face swollen from sobbing. My chin quivered, could it be true? Was there freedom in having nothing left to lose? I dropped down onto my knees beside him, feeling the dampness of the soft dirt against my bare skin.

  I rested my head against his shoulder, something about it felt comfortable and relieving.

  I put my arms limply around him, feeling the shiver of sobs beneath his hoodie as he weakly raised a hand to keep my arm in place against his chest. It was the only thing that had felt like freedom in a long time.

  MOTHER

  LISA M. WHITE

  OCT. 17, 1963

  MAR. 25, 2016

  It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me read it over, and over, and over... my eyes fluttered as it started to mist. I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing. Did she?

  ***

  I don’t exactly remember what happened after that. I know that I woke up on the sofa covered with a throw blanket I didn’t recognize. I don’t remember dreaming either, which was strangely comforting.

  I sat up slowly, my neck screaming out in pain whenever I moved it and pushed the blanket aside gently. I scanned the room, but no one was around. Sitting up quickly I brushed my hair out of my face and found that my cheeks were wet; It must have rained, or maybe I cried in my sleep again.

  I wiped away the salty liquid and sat up fully, my feet grazed my sneakers that were now sitting up against the couch; I almost didn’t even realize that I was wearing a hoodie.

  The door opened quickly, and I stood, frightened. “Hey, you’re awake,” Noah said awkwardly holding a plastic bag.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. “What happened last night?” The back of my head throbbed.

  “Uh,” he started, shutting the door behind him and locking it. “Well, you kind of passed out at the...” He avoided all eye contact with me.

  I walked over to him, watching him place the contents of the bag on the counter. It was small things like canned spaghetti, apples, Gatorade, etc. “And?”

  “Well,” he shook his head, back facing me; with each word he spoke he shrugged uncomfortably. I should just let him go; he had a rough night. “I brought you back here and let you rest.”

  “Thanks,” I said finally as I made my way over beside him and helped by putting the canned food in cabinets and apples on the table.

  “Hey, so why were you following me last night?” And there it was the question I dreaded. I stood at the table, my back to him, sorting the apples in their bowl unnecessarily. I could feel him staring at me; his lean body slouched against the counter casually.

  “I heard you sneak out,” I answered honestly.

  “You weren’t sleeping?”

  “I woke up.”

  “Ah,” the more questions he asked, and I answered the more doubtful his tone grew.

  I turned to look at him now to study his expression, “I had a nightmare, so I woke up and then I heard you leave.”

  “I see,” he said unsurely, still only partially looking at me. “What about?”

  “What about what?”

  “The nightmare,” now he saw me. “What was the nightmare about?”

  My heart felt like it was floating just above water; almost high enough to breathe. I could feel the burning of tears in the backs of my eyes, my neck stiffened, legs grew weak.

  “It was nothing,” I choked out in a whisper barely audible.

  I could see him in a blur nodding, “Alright, Hayden.” He said “alright,” but there was a shiver in his voice that unmasked his doubt in how things were going to be for us.

  “Okay, Noah.”

  TEN

  Hayden

  I ran into Kara on my way out of the student apartment complex; she wore a shimmering silver blouse with leather shorts and black pumps. As I got closer, I noticed that her mascara was smudged just below her eyelids like she had been crying.

  “Hey, Kara,” I spoke slowly like I was the college student who dared test the waters on the last day of shark week. “I hardly recognized you; how are things?”

  Her blank gaze shattered into a million pieces causing her small chin to quivers, her delicate fingers curled into fists by her sides. I almost didn’t notice she was coming at me until she was there, in my face, no time to react. Luckily, and also uncomfortably, she only wrapped her arms around my shoulders and sobbed.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, not sure what I was supposed to do with my arms.

  She muffled words against my shirt, but I couldn’t make them out, “Hun, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

  “We... broke...up....” Oh shit.

  “Oh my God, Kara. I’m so sorry.” I wasn’t sure why but it felt right to shake my head slowly in disbelief, I mean, I really didn’t believe it. But here she was, in the student apartment complex lobby, sobbing and looking a mess.

  She was able to contain herself for a moment, just long enough to fill me in on some of the details. “His mom.... She died..” she was making gestures with her hands as if she too couldn’t understand it.

  I looked away
, somewhat ashamed, “I know.”

  “He said he couldn’t do this...” He voice broke, and she was sobbing again, “how could he do this? We were perfect... I don’t understand.”

  This time I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, hugging her briefly. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  When we got to the room, I knocked first, leaving her stopped a couple of steps behind me, to make sure Cameron wasn’t over to make things worse on Kara. Luckily, he wasn’t.

  “Hey buddy,” Noah said when he opened the door, his face changed quickly from sympathetic to surprised.

  “How’s it going with you,” I asked pulling Kara by her wrist behind me. “Cuz it’s going great with me.” My tone was bleeding sarcasm that I was grateful he caught.

  “Hey Kara,” he said gently, but he didn’t have time to continue before she cut him off.

  “I’m so sorry about your mom Noah,” Her arms laced themselves around his neck causing something to turn over in my stomach. You probably just feel bad for someone other than yourself for once. Still, it made me uncomfortable.

  Finally, she let go sometime later, “Thank you, Kara.” He said sympathetically, gently pecking her forehead. The feeling came back stronger this time.

  “Okay,” I said quickly. “We should get you cleaned up.” She followed me to my room slowly like a sandcastle on the verge of crumbling. I nodded behind me to Noah who nodded back. I smiled secretly to myself.

  "I didn't, I mean, I was just getting back from a party," she explained sadly. "I live on the floor below this one."

  “Here,” I said handing the wet blob to her. “It’s a warm washcloth to get the rest of the makeup off.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered back.

  “No problem,” I shrugged. I readjusted myself to get more comfortable, but there isn’t much of a way to be comfortable when you’re sitting on the edge of a tub; it just doesn’t seem likely.

  “No, I mean for everything. Thank you, Hayden.” Her tone was more serious, calm and collected. It pleased me.

  I smiled, “No problem.”

  There was a short moment of silence while she rubbed away thick globs of mascara and eyeliner that in no way complimented her light complexion.

  And then she spoke, “So, what do you think about Noah?” She threw the washcloth on the rim of the sink; it landed with a slushy plop.

  “What,” I asked in exasperation, my face heating up like an oven.

  “Well,” she smiled sideways, “I just noticed the way you two look at each other...” she poked. “It seems like you two might have a thing.”

  I felt out of breath like I was the night I followed Noah into the graveyard, the same fear pumped through my veins like blood. “What? No- no, no definitely not,” I denied unconvincingly. I shook my head violently, “No, I’ve only ever liked one guy, and he isn’t here.” I said finally.

  “Oh? Who?” Thank God, I was dragging her attention away.

  “Eric,” I said surely.

  “Ah, and let me guess,” she raised a single eyebrow and smirked mischievously sniffling quietly. “Does he go to another school?” Her laugh echoed in the small space.

  “Oh, shut up,” I complained.

  “Hey,” she said throwing her hands up defensively. “Don’t get mad at me because you can’t admit to yourself that you like Noah.”

  “Because I don’t,” I cried. “God, why do you want me to like him so badly?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She mocked. “Maybe cuz you’re all he talks-.” She stopped suddenly, apparently reading a familiar expression on my face. “No. No-no, no Hayden!”

  “He talks... about me?” I said finally causing her to drop her shoulders and sigh into her hands.

  “That’s not what I was-.”

  “Bullshit,” I cut her off. “Tell me.”

  “Why,” she mumbled. “It’s not like you like him anyway.”

  “You know what, fine! I don’t care about your stupid gossip that probably isn’t true in the first place,” my heart fluttered. “It’s whatever.” I crossed my arms angrily; I don’t see why she at least couldn’t finish the sentence.

  She threw her head back lazily, drowned in her thoughts. She sat on the toilet seat lid facing me, her back against the sink. “I hate his girlfriend,” she mumbled confidingly.

  “Yeah?”

  “She’s a bitch; thinks she’s better than everyone else, too good for him.” She shook her head and stuck her tongue out. “I’d like just to hit her, one good time,” she brought her fist up and jokingly showed me how she would punch her.

  We both laughed.

  “Why don’t you then?”

  “Well, they’re dating.” She shrugged, “so there’s that.”

  “Well, then why don’t you talk to him, you know, as a friend?”

  She chuckled, but I didn’t see the humor. Was she picking on me? “Clearly you haven’t been here long.” Longer than three weeks, I thought bitterly. “We’ve all tried talking to him; he just doesn’t listen.”

  “Then he probably knows and is just waiting.”

  “Yeah, but for what?” She was looking at me now.

  “I don’t know,” I was getting nervous under pressure. “For something better to come along?”

  “No chance, he doesn’t know he deserves better. It’s part of his charm,” she shrugged, sitting back again.

  “We choose to accept the love we think we deserve,” I recited quietly, resting my mouth on my knee. Maybe that’s why I choose to be alone.

  “Yeah,” Her voice was just above a whisper. She groaned, “Yeah I guess you’re right.”

  ***

  I took slow, deliberate steps into the tub, the warm water only reached above my ankles. From the bathroom, I could hear the joyous shouts of Eric and his older, slightly more intimidating, brother Sam while they watched a football game in the garage. One of them was swearing off betting profusely as the water flowed heavily.

  I wonder how Eric would respond to my newly dyed red hair tied into a red knot on top of my head. Would he think it’s daring? Maybe he would think I’m some whack-job who’s really bad at dying hair. I hope it looks nice, or else what’s the point? Just to deliberately go against my mother's wishes, to prove her wrong? Maybe I was doing it all just to impress Eric and show him there’s more to me than just whatever my mother wants.

  The kitchen timer sounded, startling me and I nearly fell into the tub. I followed the instructions that came along with the dye and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair using the removable shower top.

  I could feel the warm liquid running soothingly across my scalp like kind fingers brushing through my hair. It almost didn’t feel like I was doing anything different from an ordinary shower.

  I finished rinsing off all of the soap before I turned off the water; the level of the water reached nearly to the center of my calves. I lifted the plug from the water and watched the suds slowly drain down.

  It was odd, I thought running a towel over my wet hair, that Eric’s mom had hair dye; I mean, it surely wasn’t Eric or Sam’s, and I know their dad doesn’t dye his hair red. I don’t know; maybe I was just overthinking things to distract myself from the change I’d just made. Do I regret it?

  I stared at myself in the mirror wearing nothing but underwear and a bra; my wet tangled hair pulled down over my shoulder. I glanced down for a moment, noticing Eric’s toothbrush lying carelessly in the sink.

  Something was wrong; I thought outside of the suddenly-escapable memory. I wasn’t fully immersed; it was as though I was in a dream waking up just enough to become aware that I’m dreaming, but then by doing so I start to forget what the dream was about. Something isn’t right; I’m missing a piece. But what?

  Shit, Eric’s coming upstairs. I’ve gotta hurry and get dressed before he sees me.

  ELEVEN

  Hayden

  “This has to be one of the,” I looked around the tight space, the infrequent splatter of lights r
eflecting against sweaty bodies, “Weirdest thing I’ve ever been to.”

  Kara just laughed, “At least try to have fun for one night, Hayden!” She yelled over the pulsing beats. Just then some guy seemingly came up out of nowhere and started dancing with her.

  He had long, green-dyed hair and mesmerizing yellow contacts. He wasn’t all that cute with his lanky figure and dancing that more closely resembled the arm-flailing tube creatures outside of car dealerships, but he was interesting, and Kara seemed well-distracted.

  I want to be distracted, I thought distractedly. I was too busy thinking about what Kara had said to me the other day, does he really talk about me...? Was I the ‘hallway girl’ he had mentioned to Cameron? I had to be!

  An explosion of noise broke me from my thoughts.

  Lights were flashing dramatically, music pouring out of the speakers like sweat off of the sticky bodies that pressed against other bodies. It’s like it’s everything I’m not, isn’t that a good thing?

  Normally, my thing would be sitting alone in my bedroom pitying myself. Or it would be going over to Eric’s house and having him pity me. Or going to a school where I have my teachers and classmates look at me like they feel sorry for me.

  Normally I would curl up with a good book and reread the same page twenty times before giving up because I was too busy feeling bad for myself to pay attention.

  Somehow this was different. Somehow I almost liked it. No. I love it. I’m surrounded by people having a good time, people that don’t care about my past or who I am or my faults; the world is perfect right now. I’m happy, and I don’t want to think about anything else.

  We all just jumped, throwing our fists in the air and freezing with the music. The crowd would freeze as the music would lead up preparing for the beat to drop, then- JUMP! The adrenaline rush was unreal.

  Red. Blue. Green. Orange. Multicolor. JUMP! It was all so intense; people were drinking and things that I, morally, wouldn’t permit.

  A small part of me wanted to break loose into the chaos, but I refused. I saw the way it was affecting people; I could only picture the aftermath. These people saw strobe light of color and lasers and music and dancing... but I saw the next morning of vomit, headaches, and just overall sickness. After everything I just couldn’t convince myself to be a normal, stupid teenager.