The Fire Starter

by Misty Wright

  He stiffened at the mention of the word dead, but he didn't say anything about it. "It's my fault you were alone."

  "I didn't follow you, I thought you wanted to be by yourself," I explained, realizing he had asked me this earlier.

  "Don't do that again," he scolded.

  I smiled, realizing that there was the prospect of a second time. I just hoped that when that second time came, there won't be anything bad happening again. "Someone said something earlier."

  What is it?" Spencer asked, his attention trained on me.

  I leaned on the doorway for support. "They accused me…of killing that man. Of being cursed. They said I was from that school…"

  "Oh," Spencer's face looked pained, but he regained composure easily. "Those people, they have weird beliefs," he explained. The bottom line was that I shouldn't pay attention to what they said. But it's hard to do that when you were accused of something you didn't do.

  That means they didn't know who the killer was. I shivered, starting to feel scared.

  "You're safe here," Spencer said, his voice beautiful and hypnotic.

  "Spencer?" I was about to ask him something, but my mind was caught off guard by discomfort. It had begun to feel particularly dry where I stood, and my nervousness was made more evident by the beads of sweat on my forehead. I noticed Spencer looking at me curiously, as if testing me.

  I looked back at him, not sure of what was happening. He was communicating something with his eyes, but I couldn't make sense of it. He looked serious, and the dim light only made him more handsome, the shape of his face more prominent. His brown eyes darkened, making them look like a rich chocolate color. I could feel the urge to reach up to him, to kiss his handsome face, but it wasn't the right thing to do. With the right words, I could easily persuade him to do my bidding, but I wasn't that kind of girl anymore.

  He was still looking at me strangely, unblinking. It must have been the shadow, but I think his eyes had gotten nearer. I could already count his lashes. I could see the contours of his lips. If I could just tilt my head upwards…

  He was tilting his head downwards, his eyes waiting for me to say something. I looked back, waiting. He brought his face down, our lips almost touching, but not quite. He was giving me a chance to back out. Like I would do that.

  I lifted my arms, clasping them around his neck, ready for the kiss. But then, there was something that bit me. "Ouch!" I yelped in surprise.

  "What happened?" Spencer asked, confused.

  "There was something," I said, walking around him to check the back of his neck for any insect. If I found that, I would surely kill it. "It bit me. It felt like a sting."

  I checked my hand to see if it was swelling or reddening, but there was nothing to indicate that an insect had indeed bitten me.

  "Sorry," he said, though it didn't make sense.

  "It's not your fault," I smiled, feeling the tension in the air. We had almost kissed.

  Almost.

  "I should go," he said, already starting to walk towards the stairs without bothering to ask me if I wanted him to leave or not.

  ### Spencer wasn't at class the next day. And neither was Alice. I was left all alone, hoping he was just late. I didn't want to bear the two-hour boring lecture without him. Besides, I wasn't sure where the thought came from, but I'm almost sure that they were together. Alice and Spencer. Somewhere, doing god knows what.

  I stabbed at my notebook, the ink from my pen spilling unintentionally. We had almost kissed. Didn't that mean anything to Spencer? It looks like it, since he had chosen this day to go out on a date with her, or whatever it was they were doing.

  I endured the boring hours by dozing off for the most part and writing senseless words on my notepad, all the while my mind's thinking about what the two are possibly doing right now. Would they come back and announce that they were back together? That would really be annoying on my part. I don't even want to think about what I would do if that happened.

  Not that I had a claim on Spencer, but I kind of thought we were developing something between us. That might just be me, of course. The old Kayleigh who thinks that everyone has a crush on her suddenly resurfaces, and I clear her off, since clearly, it's not the case this time. Spencer couldn't be anything but uninterested.

  He might even have cut class to be with her outside classes, outside this school even. I bit my lip, memories of yesterday creeping up my mind. I don't want to remember that. Which must also be what Spencer wants, since he was too eager to get back out and replace our dreadful memories of yesterday with new ones with Alice.

  I should stop caring. Yes, I definitely should. I have no time for all this.

  Chapter 6 - Expelled

  I went back to my room after a tiring day of Chemistry. All those formulas and concoctions were giving me a terrible migraine, and I just wanted to sleep on my comfortable bed. I'd just miss my last class and hope no one noticed my absence. I shared the class with Evan and Reid, but I doubted they'd mind. I locked the door behind me and surveyed the room, but the first thing that registered to me wasn't the huge, imposing bed in the middle, but the disarray of my room.

  This wasn't how I had left my room. This certainly wasn't how I threw my clothes around. They were gathered on a heap at the foot of the bed. One quick inspection of the drawers told me that even my underwear--both clean and used--was strewn into the mix. It appeared like someone had piled up everything and wanted to do something with them.

  But what?

  As I stepped closer, the smell of gasoline couldn't be mistaken. Someone wanted to burn my things. I gasped, realizing what this meant. Someone inside this school was telling me to leave. I stepped back continuously until I felt the cold of the door behind my back and I stopped, clung to the wall, and slid down, sitting on the floor.

  What did I do? Was it connected with what I did yesterday? With my cutting of classes? With what happened outside school? Or was it Alice? Was she sending me a message?

  There was a knock that surprised me, but it was a slow, steady, patient rhythm. It's Reid. I tried to look composed as I stood up and opened the door, but of course he knows something's wrong.

  "Hi Kayleigh, are you alright in there?" he asks, straight to the point.

  "Hi," I replied nervously and blocked his view. His lips purse tightly after sniffing the air, which was reeking with gasoline. "Do they require the student president to have super powers? Because you seem to be perfect for the job," I say, trying to distract him.

  He looked at me with surprise, his usually friendly and smiling face flat and serious. "Well, it's not really required, but it can help." He looked at me for a long time, and then the familiar smile broke on his lips. "Oh, of course you're joking."

  I laughed hollowly, and he tried to laugh along, but we both know the joke had long flown out the window. "You always seem to know when something's wrong," I explained and held the door open widely for him to see what happened.

  "When did this happen?" he asked me, but his gaze was still at the makeshift pile in the middle of my room.

  "I don't know. I came back from Chem and this is what greeted me."

  He shook his head a few times before telling me that he will send someone to clean the room up. He also told me not to tell anyone, which I assume doesn't include his friends, since they look strained when I joined them for dinner.

  I know that they know something because they're always shooting me curious glances, as if there's something they want to discuss but couldn't say in front of me. Whenever I encounter such look, I just smile at them, encouraging them to talk, but not opening the conversation either. If they were going to talk about it, I won't be the one initiating it.

  But no one talked, and dinner was done in silence. I'm not quite sure if they know what happened outside school either, or if they think the two are related.

  "Asher got expelled today," Blake was saying to Xander, who was silent as usual.

  "Why?" I beat everyone from asking.


  Blake looked at me, his usual smirk gone from his face. "Something about breaking the rules."

  If I remember correctly, Asher was Spencer and Alice's group mate who never showed up for class. Where did he spend all his time anyway? "I never got to meet him."

  "Me too," Evan said, as grave-looking as Blake. Their expressions were mirrored all over school. Apparently, someone being expelled at school doesn't happen often. Reid wasn't at our table, which must mean he had something to do with the expulsion and was still speaking with either Asher or the headmistress. "I think Xander met him once, though."

  Xander nodded, his bowl of cold soup forgotten. Until now, I still can't quite get over the fact that he looked like Blake's twin but he doesn't end up ruining all his good features by being arrogant and cocky. Instead, he's someone who looks intelligent and capable. Not that Blake isn't capable-looking, of course. But Xander has this authority around him that no one questions. "I was his partner at self-defense class."

  "Self-defense?" I asked, perplexed to hear that such a class existed here, and elated that I was having a conversation with Xander. This was our first real conversation.

  "Yes. It's not for first years," he said, and I slumped down on my seat. I don't know any kind of sport or self-defense, and I would like to try it out. My old self would cringe, but this is another way to develop my new personality.

  Besides, I need to know how to defend myself so that when someone tries to attack me by knifing my face or hurling gasoline at me, I won't be a sitting duck. I should ask Reid when I see him.

  But he's not the person I see lounging around the library on my usual spot. Of course, Spencer is here. This was his spot too. We had been using this table sometimes together and sometimes on separate occasions.

  I realized after the incident outside my room when we almost kissed that this was the first time we would be spending time alone together. I slid silently on the opposite side of the booth and busied myself with the books in front of me, mirroring his serious expression. Did he feel uncomfortable with me joining him here? But it was my spot too, and, since the library was packed, I didn't have a choice.

  He can tell me if he doesn't want to be near me, of course. I would understand. For all I know, this must have been his booth since before I came here, and seniority dictates he be the one to claim it. I managed a quick look at him, but regretted it when I saw that he was looking at me, though his head was still bent low.

  I cleared my throat and wrote my notes furiously, the awkwardness between us thickening by the minute.

  "We should talk," he began.

  "About what?" I asked, the message that there's nothing to talk about already implied.

  "What happened in Physics?" he asked, diverting the topic suddenly.

  But it's not enough diversion, since what I'm remembering is being alone on our group and doing all the work. "Not much. Did you enjoy your day out?"

  He didn't answer for a few minutes and when I checked, he looked discomfited. "I didn't go out."

  "Then where were you?" It was hard asking him without sounding angry, but I had to try, since I had no right to be angry. But the next sentence out of my mouth was far from what I expected. "Let me guess, holing up in Alice's room, right?"

  He looked at me with alarm. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth again and looked around just in case anyone was eavesdropping. "Yes."

  I have never been punched before, but now I know how it felt. The air from your lungs is sucked out, and you can't breathe. You feel disoriented and you're not sure if the pain's already gone or it's just too much that you feel numb already. That's what I felt when I heard him say it, so blatant and plain. Like he didn't care about what almost happened between us at all.

  I looked at him accusingly, letting him know that it hurt. But he didn't meet my gaze.

  I have to get out of here.

  I heard him calling after me, as silent as possible in the library but as loud and clear to make sure I heard him, but I didn't care.

  ### I found myself retracing the steps we had used when we left school last time. It wasn't hard to find where the path ended and the village begun. You just had to listen to the sound of guitars and laughter and you wouldn't be lost. I don't even know what I'm going to do outside. I just knew I had to leave that school because wherever I went, Spencer would be there to follow me.

  But he wouldn't dare follow me out. For all I know, he would rather be with Alice and resume what they were doing yesterday.

  I checked the stalls offering all sorts of things, and I tried to look interested in them, but I was just grossed out by the grotesque dolls and stuffed animals with anatomical anomalies. A dog with six legs. A pig with a rabbit's ears and the talons of an eagle. Each one more bizarre than the last. I walked along, trying to find some food to eat. Cheesecake would be good right now.

  There was a gathering of sorts a few paces ahead of me and I stopped, not sure if I should check this out. Last time, the gathering turned out to have a dead man in the middle and I almost took a knife to the face. I don't want a repeat of that, especially since the one who protected me then wouldn't be here now.

  A quick round of laughter told me that this time there's no one dead, so I moved slowly towards where the people were gathered. I caught a glimpse of something colorful in the middle, something moving quickly. It turned out that there were children dancing. One of the children, a boy of about four, looked at me with strange sea-green eyes and smiled hugely.

  It wasn't what caused me to fall over. His smile was nothing but charming. It's just that when he did, I felt my body moving on its own, stumbling in front of the crowd, helpless and uncontrollable. There was another feeling creeping up inside me, something warm, travelling all over my body. I felt like I was on fire.

  The last thing I knew before I lost consciousness was that someone was trying to lift me up and I was shrouded by flames that stung my body just like the insect I felt on Spencer's neck.

  Chapter 7 - Clutches of Sleep

  Someone was shouting. There was an argument and I heard two male voices somewhere around the room. My mind was in a daze, trying to make sense of what happened to me. I opened my eyes a little and it hurt, but I caught a glimpse of a room with pale blue curtains. There was a scent I couldn't place, minty and musky.

  And then I stood upright with alarm. It was Spencer's cologne. Two pairs of eyes looked at me with alarm with my sudden movement, and I realized that I was back at the castle, probably in one of their rooms. From the looks of the books strewn across the tables, it seemed like I was in Spencer's room.

  I flung my feet off the huge bed and found my shoes before they could even speak. Spencer hurriedly crossed the room and checked my temperature by placing his hand on my forehead. "How are you feeling?"

  I didn't want to answer as I remembered what led to this scenario. Him admitting that he was with Alice in her room doing who knows what right after we almost kissed. I stood up, holding on to the edge of the bed for support waiting for my vision to clear. Everything around me spun uncontrollably.

  Someone was holding my hand, helping me up when I fell, but I pulled my arm back ungratefully. If I could just reach that door and be gone out of his grasp… but what would I do if I left this room? How would I manage by myself to go back to my own one, given my condition? He let me go and when my vision cleared, I walked several steps only to feel myself stumbling again.

  I'd been drugged. There was no other explanation for this. I had almost reached the closed door when I felt the world spinning again. I lost my balance and felt myself spiraling downwards.

  Strong arms wrapped against my back, stopping my downfall. Spencer's face was barely recognizable as my half-dazed eyes squinted. He looked disheveled. He could be Evan, for all I care. There's too much resemblance and his hair was somewhat messier than usual, making it hard for me to recognize him except for his smell. "Let me go," I whispered weakly.

&
nbsp; "Stop running away." He said, and there was a hint of anger in his voice.

  "Let me go," I repeated, although I don't know what would happen to me if he did that. I might tumble to the floor without enough strength to stand back up. I feel so dizzy and there was a lump in my throat.

  "No!" that was the first time he had raised his voice. At me, at anyone else. He didn't look as calm as I remembered him to be, and I was silenced. I held on to his arm, letting him carry me back to the bed without another word. While he adjusted a blanket over my head, I realized that I was shivering.

  His touch was warm against my cold skin, and I was grateful for the contact. "Stay here and rest. When you get better, I'll let you go. I promise."

  But I didn't want to. I didn't want him to let me go. I shook my head, already being sucked back into the world of sleep.

  ### It's either he didn't move or he just resumed his position, since when I came to, I noticed he was just as I had left him. Still sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand stranded where I held it close to my face. He looked concerned. I could see him much clearer now, and his hair was indeed in disarray. His clothes weren't perfectly buttoned and there were creases everywhere. His eyes were pools of molten chocolate, worried and sad.

  I wanted to speak, but he beat me to it. "How are you feeling?"

  "Better," my voice croaked. I realized how parched I felt. "Where's Evan?" I asked, remembering that Evan was here earlier.

  "Already asleep," he whispered, handing me a glass of cold water with his other hand.

  I let go of his hand and tried to sit up with difficulty. The cold water felt good against my parched throat. I felt sore all over, as if I've been trampled on by a thousand elephants. Every muscle in my body ached. I tried to move, and an "Ow" escaped my throat.

  "What is it? Does it hurt?" Spencer asked, alarmed.

  "Try asking where it doesn't hurt," I replied wryly. He sighed, probably finding it difficult to take care of someone. "Can you help me up?"