Kiss Of Fire (Imdalind Series)

by Ethington, Rebecca

  I turned into the hall that housed my locker, unsurprised to see Wyn leaning against the locker next to mine, her eyebrows about as far up as they could get. Had news of my superhuman feat spread that fast? I just ignored her and caught my breath; I had no intention of discussing what had just happened.

  “Tall, dark and handsome, eh?” Obviously, she hadn’t heard yet.

  “Don’t start, Wyn,” I snapped.

  “Who is he? Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?” She spouted out her questions, but even I, the new friend, could tell she was restraining herself; she was dying to ask a million more.

  “His name is Ryland and he is my best friend, not my boyfriend,” I said.

  “Didn’t look like a not boyfriend to me,” she said cryptically.

  “He was trying to piss off Cynthia, just like you did.” I snapped my locker door shut.

  “Oooo, a kindred spirit,” Wyn smiled as she fell into step beside me. “I like him more and more.”

  “Not my boyfriend,” I reminded her.

  “Yet,” she said pointedly. “See you at lunch!” She waved at me before running down the math hallway, leaving me to walk alone to English.

  I slid into my seat just as the bell rang, my heavy book slamming into the old wooden desk. Mr. Heart hadn’t arrived yet, so I smoothed my hair and wiped my palm against my face to check for blood. Even before Cynthia’s little catfight, I had been the recipient of taunts and insults all morning, all ranging from asking how much he cost to wondering how I did it. I didn’t give anyone answers and had kept my hood up more than usual. My carefully crafted “disappear into the walls” routine had been broken wide open. I sighed and slammed my head onto the desk as Mr. Heart walked in, silencing the class immediately.

  Mr. Heart got right to business, one of the few teachers to take the end of the school year seriously. A little more than half the class were seniors, and so, their minds had already moved to graduation, but a few others of us – myself included – had a whole other year of high school education in front of us. I pulled out my notebook and began to take notes in preparation for the final exam in two weeks.

  “Pssst.”

  I heard the noise, and I could already tell whoever had made it was trying to get my attention.

  “Pssst.”

  Still going to ignore you.

  “Psst, Joclyn.”

  Great, now they want to get me in trouble.

  “Joclyn.”

  I looked up to the whispered voice. One of the seniors on the football team had turned all the way around from two rows away to face me.

  “You and that LaRue kid, eh? I always knew you was a gold digger.” The hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I brushed my frustration aside and stuck my tongue out at him like a child.

  “I bet he likes that too, doesn’t he? You dirty little minx.” He licked his lips hungrily, and I ducked my head.

  This is why I hadn’t wanted Ryland to come and pick me up; I knew this would happen. I chewed on my tongue for a minute before returning to take notes.

  That’s when I saw him.

  An unbelievably tall, lanky man stood with his back against the wall, not far from my desk. He was staring at me. I glanced at him before looking away, a blush rushing to my cheeks at the sight of his deep-blue gaze boring into me. He stood tall with long arms folded across his chest. A thick curtain of stark, straight blonde hair that hung to his shoulders framed his narrow face. His features were sharp and defined, but they suited him rather than making him look like a villain. If I hadn’t been so taken back by his piercing gaze, or even dared to get another look, I might have said he was handsome.

  I wondered why no one else noticed him; he was so foreboding and his stare so piercing. I couldn’t be the only one who felt uncomfortable with him being there. But then again, I was the only one that he was staring at. I fidgeted before trying again to focus, but it was no use. I looked straight forward, note-taking forgotten, trying not to continue to steal uncomfortable glances toward the figure who leaned toward me. I dropped my head, letting my long black hair fall between us to take away the temptation to look back.

  The minutes on the clock ticked by at a snail’s pace, my whole body aware of the continued stare I was getting. My skin prickled with an uncomfortable energy that kept my nerves on high alert. I kept shifting my weight to see if he was still there, a chill going up my spine every time I caught a glimpse of his unmoving figure or ripped designer jeans in my peripheral vision.

  I ran out of the room when the bell rang, desperate to get away from the penetrating stare, as well as from any new taunts from the football team. My next class was empty of tall blonde men and open catcalls, giving me time to focus on the material and catch up on what I had missed last week. When the bell rang, I ran from the classroom, my nerves still on high alert from blonde men - and angry girls.

  The news of my fight had now traveled through the school, and as I made my way to the cafeteria, I was treated to the open catcalls as well as looks that ranged from curious to terrified. I can’t say I blamed them; I was scared of myself. I pulled my hood up over my head and attempted to disappear behind the long overhang of fabric. I let the catcalls wash over me and focused on the feet of the students around me. I walked down a tunnel of shame; everyone turning to look, everyone saying something. What I wouldn’t give to have said something back, but the fear of a repeat performance plagued me. My progress was stopped by two large, worn, dress shoes.

  “Hood down, Ms. Despain.”

  I pulled down my hood and looked up to the old, withered face of Mr. Ray, our Assistant Principal.

  “I hear you had an altercation earlier today; do I need to remind you what our policy is, about fighting?”

  I swallowed slowly and shook my head, waiting for the yelling or suspension or whatever usually came with these things. It did seem a little odd that we were doing this in the hall, however.

  “You will be glad to know that Ms. McFadden is fine, but if you begin any more fights with any other students, we will be forced to place you under suspension.”

  “But, I didn’t…” I opened my mouth to rebut; after all, I hadn’t started the fight. But, I stopped dead in my tracks. His face had changed: his eyes were panicked and drifting, like he was scared of me, too.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  Mr. Ray didn’t say anything else; he simply nodded his head and walked on past me.

  I didn’t wait long before I ran down the hall in an attempt to get away. Great. Everyone thinks I am crazy, or possessed, or something. I entered the cafeteria and headed for my usual place, not bothering to get any food. My stomach wanted to turn itself inside out already; I was afraid of what it would do if I put food inside of it. I slammed my bag down on the table and pulled out my ancient phone, flipping it open to send Ryland a few choice words.

  You owe me. BIG!

  I snapped the phone shut and placed my head on the table, wishing more than anything that I could just disappear.

  “You look terrible; I thought you would be happy after your PDA yesterday,” Wyn giggled as she sat down.

  “Not my boyfriend,” I reminded her, not bothering to lift my head.

  “Well, everyone else thinks so, so you might as well ride it for all it’s worth.”

  I had to remind myself that Wyn didn’t know me, no matter how much we hit it off yesterday. “Going with the flow” was not my thing, neither were PDA’s for that matter. My phone buzzed and I snatched it up.

  What happened? Do I need to come and set some minds straight? ;)

  I could feel the scowl creep into my forehead.

  No! Stay away from me! You’re ruining my reputation!

  “So, what’s wrong, then?” Wyn asked.

  “Just what happened earlier,” I whispered, not wanting to elaborate.

  “Why? What happened?”

  I looked at her skeptically. How could she not have heard? My attention pulled from her as my phone buzzed
again.

  No! People are talking to you! Acknowledging your existence! Scandal I say, scandal!

  I was torn between laughing and scowling more, his jokes wriggled under my skin even over text, but it wasn’t in a bad way.

  “How’s Ryland?” Wyn asked, looking up at me from over her soda straw.

  “What?”

  “Ryland,” she continued gesturing to my phone. “You’re obviously texting him; you are grinning from ear to ear.”

  I shook my head, wiping the smile from my face. I hadn’t even realized it, but I was. This whole thing had become a weird, tangled mess of trouble, irritation, and entertainment.

  Jos, I’m sorry. I thought it would help, and I was wrong. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you. Are you okay? His text was followed by a picture he had taken of himself, his face twisted into a pleading puppy-dog face.

  I laughed aloud, his face wiping away a bit of my stress.

  I think you owe me a movie.

  “He’s fine,” I answered her question a little late, snapping my phone shut. I looked up to Wyn, grinning widely and stopped short, the smile disappearing. Directly behind her, the blonde- haired man stood, leaning against the window-lined wall. I must have jumped because Wyn shrieked and dropped her soda. The dark liquid began spreading across the table, threatening another one of Wyn’s vintage band shirts. I grabbed a wad of napkins and began throwing them on the soda.

  “What’s up with that, Joclyn? You scared me to death; I thought you saw a ghost!”

  I moved my head to look around her, but the man had disappeared.

  “I don’t know. I think maybe I’m being stalked.”

  “Stalked?” I could hear the disbelief in her voice.

  “Yeah, there was this guy in my English class. He just stood there staring at me. It’s creeping me out.” I knew I sounded crazy.

  “First, you’re dating the hottest guy I’ve seen in years, and now you’re being stalked. You’re one lucky girl.”

  “Not my boyfriend,” I growled through gritted teeth.

  Wyn just sat and smiled at me. Ryland always told me I was fun to tease; I guess he isn’t the only one to think so.

  “So you’ve said. Maybe your stalker was just a teacher’s assistant, or even a janitor, who thinks your cute,” Wyn offered.

  “I don’t know. The way he was staring at me; it was creepy - like he was trying to see inside my soul.”

  Wyn raised her eyebrow at me. “See inside your soul?”

  “Yeah, that sounded a bit crazy,” I said.

  “Ya think?”

  My phone buzzed and I picked it up, ignoring Wyn’s over-emphasized eye roll.

  How about hamburgers from Sonnies, movie, my room, Saturday night. I found the perfect grade B movie – you’re going to love it! The Evil Dead.

  I couldn’t help the smile from creeping back onto my face.

  Sounds perfect, but you better throw in ice cream.

  “Well, if you see any more soul-eating monsters let me know and I’ll take care of them for you.”

  “Seeing not eating, Wyn.”

  “Oh yeah, ‘cause that makes more sense.”

  I knew it didn’t, but I still couldn’t help but laugh at myself.

  “Darn it! We are going to be late!” Wyn jumped to her feet as the bell rang, throwing books and pencils into her bag. “Hey, do you want to come over tonight? I got a new movie in the mail, and my brother’s going to be out. We can pretend to do homework, too.” She looked at me so eagerly I couldn’t say no. Besides, spending time with someone other than Ryland might help my mom say yes to our new plans for Saturday.

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” The tension dropped from her shoulders as if she were worried I would say no.

  My phone buzzed one more time as we ran out of the cafeteria, Ryland’s message lighting up the screen.

  Anything for you, sweetheart, I‘ll even splurge and get Superman ice cream :)

  Sweetheart. When did things get so complicated?

  Chapter Six

  I don’t remember when I’ve laughed so much. That’s not to say that I have never laughed with Ryland, I have. But somehow playing and joking with a girl, a girl my own age, was different. We could joke about things I would never bring up with my mother and never even dream about sharing with Ry. For the first time in my life, I regretted not seeking out a girlfriend; I had always felt complete with Ryland. But now, with Wyn, facing Ryland’s departure in a few months seemed bearable.

  We lay back on her bed, legs draping off the side as we caught our breath from laughing, small chuckles still escaping. Just being here had made me forget all about the stress of the day, and we hadn’t even got to the movie, yet. “Night of the Living Vampire” was sure to suck as Wyn had said so poignantly.

  “So, I know he’s not your boyfriend,” Wyn began, a smile on her face, “but how the heck did you become friends with the heir to Imdalind Forging?”

  “What did you do, Google him?”

  “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, her voice sounded like a cornered child.

  “My mom has been their in-house chef since I was five; I practically grew up in their kitchen.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Ry and I have been friends since day one. It drives his dad and Timothy crazy; I am a little below their status.” Saying it out loud made the whole “falling for a prince” situation more real.

  “Timothy?” Wyn asked with something akin to recognition.

  “Yeah, he’s kind of the head of the company and Ryland’s wrangler. He hates me.” As I did him.

  “And they still let you two be friends?”

  I was just as shocked as she was. “Not by choice - Ryland kind of makes them.”

  “And they don’t just fire your mom?”

  I almost laughed outright. “Oh, they threaten to, but I don’t think they want to lose such a great cook. Besides, Ryland’s leaving for school in a few months, so I guess they don’t think it’s worth the fight anymore. It’s not like I can follow him to Oxford.”

  I hated talking about this stuff; my heart felt so heavy and broken, like part of me was leaving with him.

  “You love him,” she said.

  “More than I should,” I whispered; I knew I sounded ridiculous.

  “It’s okay to love.”

  “Not when they don’t love you back.” I sighed again; it felt like I was trying to get rid of all my stress through my lungs.

  “Especially then. I think it makes you a better person. At least then you know what it feels like to love instead of living without ever knowing. I love a lot of people that I know will never love me back, but I am happier because of it.” I could tell she believed what she said; her voice was so deep and heavy.

  “You sound like my mom.”

  “I’ve never heard that one before!” she laughed.

  “And who do you love?”

  “Talon,” she sighed.

  The sound of desperate love made me giggle; I wondered if that’s how I sounded when I talked about Ry.

  “I’ll introduce you to him when he comes to visit.”

  “So he loves you back, then?”

  “Yeah…”

  Her voice was so airy I couldn’t help but smile.

  The song on the oldies station we were listening to changed, and Wyn jumped up, squealing in delight. She leaped onto a pile of boxes that sat at the foot of her bed, pulling me up with her. She continued to jump and squeal as she danced around, the corners of the boxes heaving as she danced and moved.

  “I’m so tired of losin’, I’ve got nothing to do and all day to dooo iiiiiiit! So, I go out cruisin’, but I’ve no place to go and all night to geeeeeet theeeeeere!” Her hair swished around her face, heavy plastic bangles jangling and clanking. Her joy at the Styx song was infectious and I found myself singing and dancing along, even though I didn’t know the words.

  “Too much time on my hands!” We sang t
ogether, our loud monotone voices clashing against each other. “Too much time on my hands!”

  Wyn jumped off the boxes, hair and arms flying, to land on the plush carpet in an air guitar solo. Her arms swung and wiggled in an attempt to play the nonexistent instrument she held in her hands. Her short auburn hair flipped around her face as she swung her head in an attempt to “rock out”. The guitar solo ended, Wyn jumped up again and grabbed my hands to push me into her crazy dancing. We jumped around the floor like clowns, pulling out dance moves that our parents must have done, in our rambunctious attempt at dancing.

  “Please tell me you’ve been to a Styx concert,” Wyn yelled between verses.

  “Do they still have concerts?” I asked jumping around alongside her.

  “Yes!” Wyn grabbed my hands and began to spin me around as she continued to yell verses and choruses full blast. And, quick as it had come, the song ended, and we both collapsed on the floor, laughing at ourselves.

  “So,” Wyn sighed after a moment. “You gonna show me your scar?”

  Her question was so innocent, but my reaction was anything but. Time seemed to stop. My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. The only thing that didn’t stop was my stomach which flipped as my head screamed at me to run.

  “What scar?” Maybe if I played dumb I could deter her, but I had already checked that my hair covered the right side of my head and the dreaded mark. It didn’t. I was always so careful; I don’t know how I didn’t notice.

  “Oh, come on,” Wyn sighed as she sat up beside me, draping her arm over me, hindering my escape. “That one, right there below your ear. It almost looks like a dragon. That is very cool.” She leaned forward and looked at it. “I’m kind of jealous.”

  “A dragon?”

  “Yeah, here’s his tail, and his head.” She traced a shape through the darker portions of the brand, her fingertip tickling the skin that never got touched.

  I jumped up from under her arm and ran to the mirror that hung above her dresser. My hair naturally fell over the mark, so I pulled it back to get a better look. I had never really looked at it, but Wyn was right – the dark lines that moved through the raised skin did look like a dragon.