The Fire Starter

by Misty Wright

  "Why? Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

  "No. I want to go to my room."

  "You can't. You're not strong enough."

  "If you could just help me--"

  "Why are you making this difficult, Kayleigh?" He asked, his voice threateningly louder. "Why are you making everything so hard!"

  "I'm sorry!" was all I can say, raising my voice to meet his anger. "I'm sorry I'm being difficult, okay! I'm sorry you're stuck here with me instead of being somewhere else because clearly you don't want to be here!" I didn't know where I got the strength to say mouthful after mouthful of words, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. "I'm sorry I'm causing you trouble! Don't worry, I won't bother you again anymore!"

  "Kayleigh--"

  "I said I'm sorry!"

  I wanted him to leave me alone, but he only did the opposite. He reached out to me and pulled my frail body against him, closing his arms around me. I'm too weak to complain, and his body heat felt good against the chill. But I didn't return his hug.

  I was thankful when the door opened and Reid came in. Spencer drew back and let me go. He stood up and faced Reid, turning his back to me. I felt something warm on my cheeks and I brushed away the tears angrily.

  "I brought some food. You two should eat," Reid said, his blue eyes darting back and forth from Spencer to me.

  "I'm not hungry," we both answered at the same time.

  Spencer excused himself and went out; probably to tell his girlfriend he wouldn't be meeting her tonight because he's inconvenienced with my presence. Reid positioned himself where Spencer sat earlier and smiled at me. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm okay," I said stubbornly. "Can you help me up?" Reid seemed to debate with himself whether to help me or not. One quick assessment of my shivering and weak body told him I wouldn't be able to stand up for long. "Please?"

  He didn't help me up, but instead he carried me, still cocooned in the blanket, out of the room. I didn't have to tell him and he didn't have to ask. We reached my room in no time and he opened the door with the key he always carried with him. It took no effort at all to get me to my own bed and I switched Spencer's blanket with one of my own. I feel comfortable already.

  "Thanks Reid," I whispered as he closed the lights and prepared to leave.

  "I'll get someone to look after you, okay?" he said, and there was no arguing with him.

  "Not Spencer," I demanded.

  "Not Spencer," he echoed, just before I fell asleep.

  ### When I woke up to find Blake looking at my things with a curiosity that bordered on comical, I had to restrain myself from shouting at him. My voice still felt raw from shouting earlier, and I knew it wouldn't make him stop what he was doing anyway. He was opening one drawer right after closing another when he managed to see that I was already awake.

  "You're still alive," he teased, already handing me a glass of water before I could even ask.

  "Thanks," I said after finishing it off. "How long have I been out?"

  "A few days," he said with a shrug.

  "Really," I said in disbelief, rolling my eyes at him.

  "Just three hours, I guess." He looked at his watch to check. I caught a glimpse of the time. Four thirteen in the morning.

  "You should get some sleep," I said. "I've inconvenienced you enough."

  "It's okay. I like watching you sleep," he said sarcastically, and with a horrific wink to boot. "But if you insist, there's plenty of room in there for both of us." He finished after surveying my bed.

  "No." I chuckled, and it hurt my throat.

  "Just say it and I'll be hopping to your bed in no time," he joked as he slumped down a chair near the bed and opened one of my books. "There's some food if you want."

  "I'm not hungry."

  He laughed at nothing funny. "I wonder who will win."

  "What?"

  "Oh nothing. There's just this competition between you and Spencer on whoever gets to decline food the longest."

  So he hasn't eaten anything yet. "Why isn't he eating?"

  "I don't know. He has never been the easiest person to understand," he said, but he was observing my face with a solemn expression that I didn't think he knew how to muster. "He's suspended, you know."

  Chapter 8 - The Presence of Magic

  It didn't help make me feel better knowing that Spencer had been suspended because of me. Apparently, Reid had grounded him, but it was clear Reid only had to do that because a couple of students saw Spencer running outside the school grounds, which is forbidden.

  "He shouldn't have come after me," I said grudgingly. Did he blame me? Was it the reason why he shouted at me? Something tells me it isn't, but what is?

  "And what? Let you out there on your own? You've been there a few seconds and look what happened to you." Blake was probably the only one in the group who wasn't scared of telling me what really had happened. He didn't care if I was upset or that I was weak. He knew I was wrong. I needed the scolding.

  "I don't even know what happened."

  "Those kids," he said, his eyes faraway and serious. "They aren't really human."

  "What?" There's the pain in my throat again.

  "They use the kids to…lure strangers. To entrap them."

  "I don't understand…"

  Blake looked around the room, as if someone would be hiding in my closet to hear. "If Spencer wasn't there, you probably wouldn't have made it back here. You would probably think you were one of them."

  There was a coldness seeping inside me from the ends of my toes up to my head, settling on my brain. The coldness didn't leave and instead settled there, making me feel like a puppet. Like a zombie. Like I'm dead. "I thought I was drugged," came my confused voice.

  "Drugs? Oh, no. They don't use drugs, honey." He patted my hand, making me jump at the contact. I realized this was the first time he had touched me.

  "You're scaring me," I didn't have to pretend, because there was a clatter in my teeth that told him I was really scared.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm sorry if it scares you, but it's true. They've taken a few students from here before. You were already falling when Spencer caught up with you. Trust me. If he had been a few seconds longer, we wouldn't have been able to retrieve you."

  Amidst everything that he's saying, there was one thing nagging at me. If Spencer hadn't gotten there on time, I would have been gone. But then… "What would have happened to Spencer then?"

  Blake didn't answer this. The seriousness in his voice was gone, and it was replaced by his usual arrogant demeanor. "I've probably said enough. So, are you sharing your bed with me?"

  "You're mad at me, aren't you?"

  "What? Why would I be mad at you?"

  "Because if they are as horrible as you say they are, they would either take Spencer too, or…kill him." I didn't know where I got that idea, but I knew it was true. I would get their friend killed because I couldn't follow the rules. Maybe that's why Reid didn't stay with me and instead asked for Blake to do it. Maybe that's also the reason Evan didn't talk to me.

  ### I didn't want to be better the next day, but it seems whatever 'magic' the gypsies used on me had already worn off. I felt as good as new. It's as if nothing happened. I could go to class and do my routine as usual. But I didn't. There's someone I have to thank for risking his life for me, and for being suspended because of me.

  I found him in the library, of course. I carefully slid across the booth, checking to see if he was mad at me or not. I just needed to thank him. That would lessen the burden I felt inside my chest. "Hey," I said tentatively.

  He didn't look up, but he acknowledged me with a "Hi."

  "Here," I took the sandwich I had brought from the cafeteria earlier and pushed it towards him. "I'm guessing you haven't eaten yet.

  "Thanks," he said, but his hand didn't move to take my peace-offering.

  I should just finish this as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry you got suspended…"

  "It's okay. I c
ould finish our project in the mean time. I won't be missing much."

  "Spencer…"

  "Did you really think I didn't want to take care of you?" he asked all of a sudden, his eyes trained on me. I squirmed in my seat at the intensity of his gaze. He was mad at me. That was plain and clear.

  I'm sorry I'm being difficult, okay! I'm sorry you're stuck here with me instead of being somewhere else because clearly you don't want to be here!

  I struck my forehead with my palm. I shouldn't have said those things. I shouldn't have been angry at him, when all the time he had been taking the blame for me. But what should I say?

  "You have no idea about the things that you're saying. You have no idea of how you're hurting people," he said through gritted teeth.

  "I'm--"

  "And don't even say you're sorry."

  "But--"

  "Nobody told me to go after you, Kayleigh. And nobody had to. I knew where you were going, and that it was dangerous out there. They could have killed you!" The librarian shushed, but Spencer was beyond caring. "I don't care if I'm suspended, but I can't lose you!"

  I think I heard that last past incorrectly. With the tears streaming down my face and with the anger his eyes were communicating, it seemed impossible that he said he didn't want to lose me. What did that even mean? "I'm sorry for all your trouble."

  I found myself running. Not outside the gate this time, because I already know the dangers that await out there. I just wanted somewhere quiet; somewhere no one else would go to. I opened the heavy door surprisingly easily and crossed the moat before circling to the forest. It's just before lunch, and everything should be easy to see. I could choose one of the low trees and hide under its shade while I make sense of everything.

  He's angry at me. He's not just angry, he hates me. He hates me because I endangered my life and he had to endanger his to get to me. I think I've never hated myself before, but I'm quite certain I hate myself right now.

  What happened to changing, to being a better person? A better person wouldn't be hurting others, endangering their lives.

  But I didn't know about magic either. I didn't know it existed, I don't even know if I believe it now. It all sounded absurd the way Blake said it, but he was serious when he did, and it explained why I felt sluggish right after seeing that child smile at me. My mind travelled back to that moment, when I felt something coil around me like an invisible string.

  And then there was that fire… I didn't really see it, but I felt it touch me. Where did that fire come from? Was that also a part of their ritual? Was Spencer also burned by that fire when he came to my rescue? But when I bathed this morning I didn't see any burn marks on my body. Spencer didn't seem to be hurt in any way either.

  Maybe I was already hallucinating back then. That's the only thing that makes sense.

  I would not have gone to dinner if it wasn't for my rumbling stomach. I decided to just drop by, get my plate full, and march to an empty table. I should stop sitting with them. They're all probably mad at me anyway.

  Everything was okay when I entered the room and headed straight to the buffet table. But Kyle spotted me and waved at me, indicating the seat I usually took. Because of her, I was distracted and bumped into someone.

  I know it's weird, but since last night, I already felt familiar with Spencer's temperature. So I knew without looking that it was him. "Sorry," I muttered without looking up, but he quickly held my arm to stop me.

  "Sorry for shouting at you earlier," he whispered, guiding me to a table with, surprisingly, cheesecake. He put a huge slice on my plate and waited for me to respond.

  "I should be the one apologizing to you," I said at last. "I shouldn't have done that, and I shouldn't have said anything. It's just that…"

  Spencer stopped me by tugging at my arm, and I was forced to look at his beautiful eyes. "Let's just forget it, okay?"

  I nodded in approval. It seemed like the only thing left to do anyway.

  "Someone's kissed and made up," Blake announced just as Spencer and I reached the table. I smiled weakly and noticed that Spencer was blushing just as much as I think I am.

  "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," I said around the table.

  And I was met with laughter. "What do you mean trouble?" Reid asked, eyeing my cheesecake with interest.

  "I got Spencer suspended, and Blake had to stay up late to watch over me, and--"

  "Kayleigh," Xander said, cutting through my litany.

  "We did all that because we're your friends," Evan answered, a sheepish grin already in place on his face. Then, before I could stop him, I saw his fork descend down my dessert, and a few others followed suit.

  I laughed genuinely for the first time. They were my friends. Of course. They weren't mad at me. They were concerned, and they wanted to make me feel better. I've never felt happier. I looked at them, tackling the slice of cheesecake Spencer had given me, and I couldn't help but be contented. These are the kinds of friends I wouldn't want to lose. Or leave.

  Chapter 9 - A Slow, Painful, Torturous Process

  It's not all fun being with my friends, but most times it is. Like right now, for instance. Spencer and Evan had started their brotherly feud, and I thought I smelled something burning in the oven. I don't even know how they got access to the kitchen, but Evan had just come out with a wicked expression on his face as though he was particularly proud of what he had done this time.

  With a weird spring on his step, he reached us at the cafeteria and dropped onto the table what appeared to be an aluminum cooking dish with nothing but the long-sleeved shirt I saw Spencer wearing the other day. I have to tell you, it wasn't pretty. There were holes and I could smell the remnants of Spencer's cologne, only it was fairly undetectable since the gray smoke issuing from it was so overpowering. Spencer, who was sitting beside me, let out a sigh and brought something out of his bag.

  After seeing Evan's prank on Spencer's shirt, I thought Spencer would get mad, but it seems that they had been doing this for a long time already. Spencer had a prank of his own, and it involved Evan's shoes--or rather, what remained of them, since it looked like they had gone down to the garbage crusher. It didn't smell like garbage though. It smelled like bananas. But no matter how it smelled, I just couldn't look at it.

  "Ugh, Spencer what did you do??" I asked, though not really eager to know what he had done. I crinkled my nose and he hid the shoes in a plastic bag and sealed it. Out of sight, out of mind--I wish. The image was still burned inside my head.

  Evan was shaking his head with a sheepish grin on his face. His usually messy hair looked more disheveled than usual and he wiped sweat from his forehead. "This isn't the end, Spence," he threatened jokingly.

  "It definitely isn't," though Spencer wasn't one who always smiled, his eyes were twinkling. I couldn't help but admire the bond that they had. Though they seemed to not share anything in common, they still managed to get along. And they also seemed to have a lot of patience for each other.

  "You two look cute," I noted. Both looked at me quizzically and I could see how similar they looked despite the minute differences. "I envy the kind of relationship you have."

  "Don't you have any siblings?" Evan asked before he took a large bite off his bagel.

  "None," I replied simply. "I grew up alone most of the time. And don't even ask about my friends. They're the worst."

  "Why?" It was Spencer who asked this time.

  "I don't want to talk about it," I shut my mouth, and so did the two, dismissing the subject.

  "Alright," Evan agreed, standing up and taking the remainder of his bagel with him. "I have to go now, but don't take your eyes off my brother will you? I don't want more shredded shoes," he waved and dashed off the hallway, melting in with the darkness as he got out of sight.

  Now I could safely return to what I was reading. Spencer had been taking care of the implementation of our project, and I was assigned to the heavily boring research. I have to admit, it gets bette
r and easier being with him. I've moved on past the flutters in my stomach and the heavy pounding of my heart. Though I can't say that I didn't like him anymore--in fact, I think it just got worse. Whenever we're together, I seemed to be completely aware of his every movement, and of his musky scent. Sometimes I could even smell him inside my room, even when he's not really there.

  I sighed, trying to keep my mind off unwanted thoughts. I needed to avoid zoning out every time we're supposed to be together. I can't be one of those people who just let others do their work for them. I don't want Spencer to look at me that way.

  "Were your friends really that terrible?"

  When I heard him speak, I looked up, confused. First, he never did seem interested in where I came from, and second, it wasn't like him to ask personal questions about anyone. I always thought that he wanted others to confront their own problems instead of whining about them. Call me weird, but that was actually one of the traits I liked about him. Not that it wouldn't feel good to know that he was indeed curious about me, of course.

  I nodded, too surprised to answer coherently. He was looking at me in his peripheral vision; his brown eyes the color of dark chocolate this time.

  "It used to be fun," I said, remembering when I first met my friends. They were always talking about the pranks they wanted to do to other people. I, of course, being the careless person that I was, went along and didn't mind how we were hurting others. "I'm not proud of who I used to be with them."

  "But you should be proud of who you are now," he consoled. It made me feel better, hearing those words from him. I didn't realize I regretted the things I had done in the past until now.

  "Thanks," I mumbled as he went back to what he was doing.

  There was one thing I didn't expect from him. And I take back what I said earlier that the fluttering and hammering had stopped. They all returned, and this time even worse than the last. I felt like I was floating, I could barely feel the chair I was sitting on. The moment he touched my hands, his thumb caressing the back of my palm, I couldn't think straight anymore. I just felt so…weird. I felt warm, fuzzy, and a combination of many other feelings I couldn't even name. And all that because he had touched my hand? Not just plain touched, he held it in his, and he was still holding it now.