Going Down in Flames (Entangled Teen)

by Chris Cannon

  “She’s right.” Zavien held out his hand. “Let me read the letter to make sure you sent the right message.”

  “Fine.” Bryn tossed it to him.

  He ripped open the envelope and pulled out the one-page letter. His lips moved as he read. Then he laughed. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. You made your point very clear.”

  “Thank you.”

  Zavien tucked the letter in his pocket. “I know I’ve said some stupid things, but I want to keep you safe. The idea of guys like Merrick prowling around makes me want to fry someone.” He held his hand out, and a small lightning bolt appeared.

  Did he feel that way because he felt like her big brother or because he was jealous? Maybe it was a combination of both. Unless someone had a crystal ball, she wasn’t likely to get an answer.

  Time to change the topic. “Isn’t the first stagecraft meeting tonight?”

  “The stagecraft meeting is at seven, and the acting meeting is at seven twenty,” Zavien said. “They shouldn’t take long.”

  Bryn stretched out on the carpet and closed her eyes, willing her body to relax. A nap would be wonderful. She drifted while her friends talked.

  “Bryn.” Zavien’s voice sounded light and teasing.

  She opened one eye. He wore the lopsided grin she hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes?”

  “What’s with the flamingoes?” The other corner of his mouth turned up as she moaned and covered her face with her hands.

  “I like them. They’re fun, and they make me happy. All right?”

  “She has an entire zoo in her underwear drawer,” Ivy said. “They’re all ridiculous.”

  “You have flamingoes on your underwear?” Clint said.

  Bryn sat up. “Yes, I do. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Nope.” Clint turned his head and laughed.

  …

  At a quarter till seven, they flew over to the auditorium. The room resembled an oversize movie theater. There were rows of upholstered seats, but instead of a movie screen, the focal point of the room was a giant stage made of polished wood. From her seat in the back row, Bryn noticed the predominant hair color in the room was black. A few redheads and brunettes were sprinkled here and there. Not a single blond head was visible.

  “I guess the Blues think they’re too good to work behind the scenes,” Clint muttered.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Bryn responded.

  Nola sat on the edge of the stage, wearing an ethereal dress of floral fabric. On anyone else, it would’ve been ridiculous. Nola looked like a special-edition, dark-haired Easter Barbie. She opened a black case, pulled out a violin, and dragged a bow across the strings. The sustained note caught everyone’s attention.

  “I prefer not to yell,” Nola said. “Tonight, we’ll discuss what stagecraft is and what it isn’t. If you want to contribute to other people’s success, then stagecraft is a good match. If the only person you want to succeed is yourself, then stick to acting.”

  “That seems harsh,” Ivy said.

  Bryn nodded.

  “In stagecraft, you’ll learn to paint sets and sew costumes. You’ll make new friends outside your Clan. If those things appeal to you, then you’re in the right place.”

  How could Zavien be friends with this woman? She seemed so formal. A quick check of the other Black dragons showed not all of them had wild hair and tattoos. Some looked like they belonged at an art gallery or an opera.

  “Everyone come on stage, and I’ll give you a quick tour.” Nola stood and waited for everyone to join her. Bryn followed her friends onto the stage. The gold velvet curtain opened, revealing how deep the structure was. The back wall was made of bare brick. Giant hooks bolted into the masonry ran the length of the wall, and thick ropes wrapped around the hooks in figure eights.

  “Don’t touch those ropes. We have sets stored in the rafters. If they fell, someone could be injured.” Nola pointed at a black, wrought iron spiral staircase. “Some of you could work on the catwalk, helping with the lights.”

  The metal staircase reminded Bryn of the fire escape leading to her apartment. A pang of homesickness hit, and her chest tightened.

  Nola continued her speech. “In the wings, you’ll find signup sheets for different activities. Study them and figure out what fits into your schedule. If you plan to attend the acting meeting, it starts in ten minutes. If not, you’re welcome to stay back here and socialize.”

  Bryn investigated the clipboards hanging on nails along the wall. Each one posted different stagecraft assignments. They needed someone to paint primer over old sets. Given her lack of artistic talent, this was her best bet. She grabbed the pen hanging from the clipboard and signed her name.

  Clint leaned over her shoulder. “That’s boring.”

  “You’ve seen me doodle in class.”

  “You’re right. Perhaps it’s best if you’re the Primer Queen.”

  If he hadn’t been agreeing with her, she would’ve flipped him off.

  Nola’s violin sounded, signaling the beginning of the next meeting.

  Ivy grabbed Clint’s arm. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Bryn stood in the wings while Nola gave another speech. She tuned the Barbie out while she scanned the other clipboards. An assignment with the title Paint by Numbers sounded interesting. To paint the background on a set, she needed to use the color denoted by the number in each area. She’d liked paint by numbers as a kid, so she added her name to the list.

  Zavien’s voice caught her attention. She peered onto the stage and discovered him sitting next to Nola. On closer inspection, she noticed Nola leaning against him. He didn’t seem to mind.

  A small growl threatened to emerge from her throat. What right did she have to be jealous? Rather than torture herself, she moved farther into the wings and sat with her back against the wall.

  When the meeting ended, Bryn stayed where she was. Her emotions were all over the place. She missed her real life, and she felt irrational hatred for Nola. Her life sucked.

  The acting club was called forward. An equal number of black- and blond-haired students climbed onstage. Not wanting to deal with Blues, she moved behind a set of fake marble columns.

  Jaxon’s voice preceded him. “Rhianna, I wish you’d reconsider. Stagecraft is beneath you.”

  “You misled me about the meeting.” Rhianna’s voice was calm but cold. “If you’d been truthful, I might not have chosen to join. Since you were deceptive, I’m joining to prove a point.”

  “That’s not rational. Doing something to spite me won’t make you happy.”

  Rhianna strode over to the clipboards. She glanced at one and wrote two names on it. “You can join with me as an apology.”

  Bryn stifled a laugh.

  “You can’t sign me up for stagecraft. I won’t do it.”

  Rhianna cleared her throat. “I, the undersigned, promise to help the stagecraft department in this manner. If I shirk my duties, I will be expelled from stagecraft and the acting club.” She pointed at the line with Jaxon’s name. “There’s your name. If you want to be the leading man, you’ll have to work in stagecraft.”

  Cursing under his breath, Jaxon stormed off.

  Bryn chuckled.

  Rhianna walked around the columns to where Bryn sat. “Do you like how I handled that?”

  “You’re my new hero. I doubt he’ll mislead you again.”

  Clint and Ivy arrived in time to hear of Bryn’s hero worship.

  “What’d she do?” Clint asked.

  Bryn stood and dusted off her pants. “The good news is she doesn’t let Jaxon push her around. The bad news is we have to deal with him in stagecraft. Which project did you sign him up for?”

  Rhianna handed her the primer clipboard.

  She groaned. “Why couldn’t you pick one I wasn’t involved in?”

  “You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.” Rhianna grinned. “It’s punishment for you, too.”

  “I take it back. You�
��re not my hero.” Bryn made a cross with her fingers. “You’re evil.”

  “Come on.” Ivy looped her arm through Bryn’s. “We’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

  She parted ways with Clint and Ivy at the front door of the Green dormitory. In the first-floor lounge, students sat in groups talking or playing cards. None of them paid any attention to her as she walked toward the stairs.

  What would she do for the rest of the evening? It was only eight. Maybe she’d read one of the books she’d checked out from the library.

  Taped to her dorm room door, she found an envelope with her name on it. Crap, not another one. She ripped it down, opened it, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was from Garret explaining that he wanted to reschedule their timed trials for next weekend. It was a sad reflection on her life that this was a good note. She let herself in. Feeling a little sorry for herself, she curled up on the couch with the book about a dragon and a knight and tried not to think about what Zavien might be doing. It was none of her business. He was probably off somewhere with Nola the perfect.

  The thought didn’t improve her mood.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sunday morning, Bryn smacked the alarm clock and went back to sleep. Thanks to a late-night run to the vending machines, she had a stockpile of food. Her stomach allowed forty more minutes of rest before it growled loud enough to startle her awake.

  Maybe she should’ve eaten a snack before she went to bed.

  The chocolate-frosted doughnuts on the nightstand called to her. The sound of crinkling cellophane made her smile. It was the sound of instant gratification. She may not have a lot of friends or an active social life, but snack cakes and doughnuts would tide her over until she graduated.

  The chocolate icing tasted like fudge and melted on her hands. Since there was no one to witness her behavior, she licked the icing off her fingers. Once she worked her way through the package, she retrieved a can of soda from the bathroom sink.

  The ice she’d exhaled into the sink to chill the sodas had melted, but the cans were still cold. Would Blues approve of her domestic use of their breath weapon? Probably not. How would Jaxon react to the idea that he was a virtual ice machine? Chuckling to herself, she climbed back into bed, intent on finishing her book.

  She’d read for hours last night. The book was a blend of romance and suspense. The knight and the dragon faced terrible adversity. After the battle had ended, the dragon was searching for her knight. If the author let the knight die, Bryn planned to track the woman down and kick her in the shins.

  Two packages of doughnuts later, Bryn wiped at the happy tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m such a sap.” She tossed the book on her nightstand and headed for the shower.

  Next up. Homework. Dressed in comfortable clothes, she sat cross-legged on the living room floor, plowing through assignments. She planned to finish before lunchtime and go to the gym. Noon rolled around, and any fuel from the doughnuts was long gone. Time to hit the café on the first floor.

  A few other students sat in the small café area. Each marked their table with a pile of books and scattered notes. Greens weren’t the most social dragons. She picked a corner table and wolfed down two cheeseburgers and a double order of fries. The salty fries helped balance out the sweets she’d eaten earlier.

  The gym wasn’t crowded. Half the students were Blue males. There was a healthy amount of male and female Reds, but none she recognized. Octavius and Vivian were in a corner ring performing some type of stick fighting. Curious, she wandered over to observe.

  The moves were choreographed so the thick wooden sticks smacked against one another rather than the individuals fighting. The resonant sound reminded her of drums. She suspected the weapons were hollow. After a few moments, she detected a melody.

  The two Orange dragons finished and bowed to each other.

  Bryn gave a small round of applause. “That was amazing.”

  “It’s a traditional exercise among our Clan,” Vivian said.

  “What’s the melody?”

  “Different songs are used for different occasions. This was a song for harvest. If we were home, we’d be celebrating the fall harvest with our Clan.” Octavius’s voice sounded wistful.

  “I miss my family, too,” she said.

  “You don’t have a Clan, do you?” Vivian spoke as if the idea just occurred to her.

  Bryn shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “If you’re done with this heartwarming moment, we’d like to use the ring,” Jaxon announced from behind her.

  She grimaced as Jaxon, Quentin, and a few other Blue males crowded around.

  Octavius squared his broad shoulders. “If you want the ring, you’ll have to take it.”

  Well, that was interesting. Did Octavius dislike Jaxon as much as she did, or was this a Blue Clan-Orange Clan type of thing?

  One look at Jaxon told her this wasn’t the response he’d expected, but he couldn’t back down in front of an audience. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Can you handle a sword?” Octavius asked.

  No way Mrs. Anderson would supply testosterone-ridden teenagers with real swords.

  “First to three strikes wins?” Jaxon walked to a cabinet and pulled out wooden weapons.

  “That’s acceptable.” Octavius took the weapon Jaxon offered and weighed it in his hand. “It’s a shame they won’t let us use the real thing.”

  The Orange dragon’s tone made the hair on the back of Bryn’s arms stand up. Jaxon was probably about to fight more of a battle than he’d anticipated.

  The two males faced off in the ring. Jaxon moved in quickly. Octavius nearly knocked the sword from the blonde’s hand before jabbing him in the shoulder.

  Quentin sucked in his breath. Bryn sidled over to him. “Is Jaxon any good?”

  “He’s good when he isn’t overconfident.”

  Which meant he was about to get his butt kicked. Not that she’d enjoy seeing that, but…yeah, she would.

  Jaxon slowed his motions and concentrated on deflecting the Orange dragon’s thrusts. Wooden sword smacked against wooden sword. Jaxon found his opening and stabbed Octavius in the side.

  Vivian growled.

  Octavius went on the attack and landed a blow to Jaxon’s midsection. The blonde doubled over but managed to thrust his sword at Octavius’s leg. The Orange dragon jumped back, but not before his shin was hit.

  “You’re quick,” Octavius acknowledged. “The next blow decides the winner.”

  Jaxon wore a look of fierce determination. He blocked the Orange dragon’s moves while biding his time. In a blur of motion, he struck Octavius on the arm. The Orange dragon’s sword stopped half an inch from Jaxon’s jugular vein.

  Both males breathed heavily. Octavius tapped the sword to his opponent’s neck and then lowered his weapon. “Well played. The ring is yours.”

  Jaxon’s posture relaxed. “I’m not sure I want it anymore.”

  Octavius laughed. “Any time you need a workout, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  The Orange dragons walked off. Bryn cleared out before Jaxon could make his usual snide remarks. Once she’d unleashed the stress of her week on a Slam Man, she flew back to her room. After showering, she was at a loss. What should she do for the rest of the day? She stared at the phone, willing it to ring. It mocked her with silence. She could call Clint and Ivy, but they could use some time alone. And Zavien, she wasn’t sure what she’d say if she called him. Hello, this is the girl who annoys the crap out of you who you might like, then again, maybe not. It’s not like she was five and needed to be entertained.

  The dorm room walls seemed to close in on her. Where could she go? Could she have fun alone in Dragon’s Bluff? It was worth a try. After signing out at the gate, she took to the air and reveled in the sensation of freedom.

  Whoosh. Out of nowhere, a Black dragon swooped within inches of her head. She jerked backward, heart racing. In her peripheral vision, she discovered a trio of Black dragons cl
osing in on her. None of them were familiar. Taking a deep breath, she huffed out a ball of fire to serve as a barrier and a warning.

  Growling laughter emerged from the lead dragon’s throat. “No need to be frightened, mixed breed. We were only playing around.”

  “Do I know you?” Bryn asked.

  “I’m Alec. We met in the forest when you were in the company of the Orange dragons.”

  “Right, you’re the one with the tattooed chest.”

  He gave a grin, which did nothing to ease her nervousness. “We didn’t have time to talk before. Why don’t you come swimming with us today?”

  Not a chance. Should she say she was meeting someone in Dragon’s Bluff? He could follow her. Better to head back to campus. “Sorry. I was just taking a break from homework. I can’t stay out much longer.”

  “Another time then.”

  Not if she could help it.

  Alec and his friends flew off. Bryn forced herself to fly at a sedate pace, not wanting Alec to know he’d scared the crap out of her.

  Back in her room, she collapsed on the bed. Should she call Zavien and tell him about this incident? Alec hadn’t threatened her, but something about him made her uneasy. Since there wasn’t anything concrete to tell Zavien, she stretched out on the bed and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Monday morning came too early. Bryn shuffled through the line at the breakfast buffet, wondering what fate had in store for her. When Jaxon appeared in line behind her, she decided fate sucked.

  “Leave some food for the rest of us,” he said in a loud voice.

  A few students laughed.

  She glanced back at him. “I don’t respond to stupidity until after I’ve had my coffee.”

  “Up too late with your friends?” The way he emphasized the word “friends” made it sound like he meant something else.

  Whatever. As she stacked pancakes on her plate, she could hear him talking to the Blues around him about Ivy and Clint. What was he up to? It was too early for his crap. Maybe caffeine would help. She filled two mugs with coffee and joined her friends at their regular table.