A Strange Fire (Florence Vaine) (7 page)

 “Ah, so you’re more into nature then?”

 “I s-suppose.”

 She smiles when I say this, but it seems like she can’t understand how
anyone could prefer Chesterport over a big city life. I should tell her that
the glamour of the city loses its shine fairly quickly. Just like the apple
she’s devouring. Particularly so when you’re dirt poor and your dad’s a junkie.
For a minute I think she might be done with the questioning but then she asks,
quite blatantly, “Have you got a stutter or something?”

 It’s the worst feeling ever when people point it out, I can’t tell you.
Like being accused of murder. Irrational, I know, but my brain is a mess of
irrationality.

 Frank’s jaw tightens. “Layla!” he hisses, but she ignores him and
focuses her stare on me.

 “Yes I d-do.” I reply, looking down at my food, focusing on shovelling
it into my mouth. It tastes like nothing. My heart trips over itself.

 Layla just nods and asks, “So why did your family move
here
?” she
emphasises the last word as though Chesterport is the last place on earth she’d
consider moving to.

 “No family, just me,” I tell her. “I c-came here to live with my
grandma.”

 Layla tosses away her apple core and begins eating a sandwich, I pick at
my rice salad. “You don’t have any other family?” she asks.

 “I have my dad, but,” I hesitate before repeating the lie I told
Caroline, “h-he’s moved to Australia for a new job.”

 “And he left you behind?” Jesus, how much information is she going to
try to get out of me? She doesn’t even seem apologetic about being nosey.

 “I didn’t want to live so far away, so Gran t-took me in.”

 “That was nice of her.”

 “Yes it w-was.”

 Now everybody else at the table listens into what Layla and I are
talking about. Seemingly what I have to say holds interest.

 “Do you miss your dad?”

 “We w-weren’t close.” I’ve tried to love my father, have spent so much
time wishing he were the kind of man a daughter could love. But I could never
find or see anything in him that was good.

 “Really? If my dad was the only family I had I think I’d be pretty close
to him.”

 “We weren’t.” I tell her, my statement final. I’m tired of her delving
into my personal life at this point. I know her intentions aren’t malicious,
I’d see it in her colours if they were. She just seems like one of those people
who say what’s on their mind, no inhibitions. I can sense that Frank is tense
beside me. Perhaps he’s embarrassed by Layla’s interrogation. I glance at him a
moment and almost gasp when I see how tenderly he is regarding me, both his
eyes and his aura betray admiration.

 I don’t know what I’ve done to warrant it though. I take a quick glance
around the table, relieved when I find that nobody else has noticed his
expression. Caroline is still chatting with Alex, if I knew any better I’d say
she was flirting with him, in fact I think she
is
flirting with him. As
usual in these situations, the boy remains unaware of her efforts. His aura
tells me he sees her as a friend with a good sense of humour, both are now
laughing at some shared joke.

 “Oh Franklin honey,” Layla chirps, with mock sincerity, perhaps I’d
mistaken her lack of malice. “Do you think your new friends would like to join
us this Friday?”

 “Join us where?” he asks, his tone rigid.

 “Have you forgotten? We’re all going to the battle of the bands over in
Remington, remember?”

 “Actually,” says Caroline, before he can reply. “Me and Flo already have
plans, we’re going to the movies on Friday, right Flo?”

 I know where I’d prefer to be, nonetheless I reply, “Yes that’s right.”

 “Pity,” says Layla. “It’s going to be one helluva shindig,” and then she
raises an eyebrow and smirks.

 “Actually, sweetness,” says Ross. “It will be more of a ho-down than a
shindig.”

 “Is there a difference?” says Frank, seemingly bored.

 “Of course,” replies Ross. “A shindig can be fun, but a ho-down is
wild
.”
His words bely some sort of hidden meaning, meant only for Frank, who shakes
his head and turns to me. “If you want you two can come once you’re finished at
the cinema.”

 “Sure, I’ll see, I don’t know what my Gran is going to be like with
curfews yet.”

 “Let me know,” he says with a smile, his eyes wandering over me. “You
look really pretty today Flo.”

 My heart jumps like I’ve just been given a fright. I’ll never be the
kind of girl to take a compliment with a sassy wink and a smirk. “Thank y-you.”
I say, and then concentrate on eating my lunch with more determination than
ever.

 “Hey Layla, I don’t remember you inviting me and Kevin to this night
out?” says one of the younger boys, the one named Benji.

 “That’s because it’s gonna be well past your bedtime kid,” she replies
with a laugh.

 “Whatever, we’re coming,” says Kevin.

 “No, you’re not,” says Layla, with a callous flick of her hair over her
shoulder.

 “Hun, let them come if they want,” says Ross, stroking her bare arm.

 She sighs. “Well I guess if Frank’s new friends are coming we might as
well let all the children tag along.”

 Okay, well I can’t just let that one slide. I don’t do bitchy very well
so I simply say to her, “I didn’t realise I w-was a child,” I keep my tone
light so as not to provoke her, but maintain a level of snippiness to let her
know that I’m not going to be a pushover.

 “That’s you and me both,” laughs Frank, he smiles at the fact that I’d
sort of stuck up for myself.

 Layla puts down her sandwich. “For me age is all about what you’ve
experienced, nothing to do with years,” she says, all matter of fact.

 “You m-must have a lot of experience then,” I say.

 “I’ve seen and done things your sheltered life could not even fathom
darling,” all of a sudden she’s become vicious, and I really didn’t warrant it.

 “Sheltered?” I say the word like a question, my face showing confusion.

 “Yeah sheltered,” she says, her lips a hard straight line.

 “You know what, I wish I’d had a sheltered life,” I tell her quietly and
look away. Everybody seems to be focusing on me now, they’ve all heard what I
just said but thankfully they don’t question it. I look up and see Layla squint
her eyes at me a little but then she turns her attention to Ross, asking him if
he’s coming over to her place after school. I glance down at my watch and
notice that lunch will be over in five minutes so I gather my things and get up
to leave.

 “Where are you rushing off to?” Frank asks me casually, a grin on his
face since he’s just shared a joke with Benji and Kevin, who I’ve now realised
are twins, though not identical.

 “Um, class.” I respond sheepishly.

 “Well she wouldn’t want to be late,” Layla chips in. “That would be the
ultimate sin,” then she makes a face of mock horror.

 “Are you going to Business?” Frank continues, ignoring Layla’s comment.

 “Yes,” I answer him rigidly, while staring at Layla, trying to figure
out why she’s suddenly got it in for me.

 “I’ll come with you then.”

 “You d-don’t h-have to.”

 “I want to.”

 I nod and tell Caroline I’ll see her later. When we get to class our
usual teacher isn’t there, instead there’s a young blond man in his place. He’s
in his mid to late twenties with hair like gold thread, and he’s wearing a
white open shirt with a black t-shirt underneath and grey corduroy trousers. He
looks like a college student, and when he turns and I see his face properly for
the first time I almost faint, because it is stunning, in a serene, angelic
kind of a way.

 But that’s not the only reason I feel like fainting. I’d thought the
light that framed him was shining in from the open window, whereas now I can
see that isn’t it at all. This man’s aura consists entirely of light, but it’s
hardly an aura at all since there are no other colours swirling within it to
indicate feelings and thought processes. It’s as though he either doesn’t have
them entirely, or they are hidden.

 “W-who’s that?” I ask, turning to Frank.

 “That’s Sam Yardley, he’s the Guidance Counsellor. He’s also a good
friend of my foster dad’s, we must have a free class.”

 “Oh.”

 Sam’s light has me almost entranced, just as the fire of Frank and his
brothers affects me. How can there be so many people with such unusual energy
in one school? Not in all of my years living in Tribane, a city with a
population of over a million, had I come across one single person with this
kind of aura. It must be the clean air and healthy living. Hah! As if that
could cause a person to blaze like an inferno or light up like heavenly rays. I
repeat. My sanity is dwindling by the second. Frank and I sit down by our table
at the back of the class.

 “Okay everyone,” says Sam, “Mr McKinley is out sick today so just sit
quietly and get some study done.”

 The rest of the class don’t seem in any way intrigued by Sam as I am,
but of course, they can’t see the thin layer of light that encompasses his
body. I feel like if I could just touch it, it would heal me completely. I’d
never again think of the life I’ve had and feel robbed. I mean, that could
never be possible, miracles don’t happen. But I can’t shift the feeling that
Sam could in some way help me to achieve happiness. Maybe that’s why he’s a
Guidance Counsellor.

 The class chatters quietly, nobody’s really doing any study and I feel
like a nerd for actually taking out my German book and beginning my homework.
Frank kicks back in his chair, not bothering to take out any books.

 “You know you don’t really have to study,” he says in a low voice. “Sam
doesn’t bother with us as long as we keep quiet.”

 If I felt capable of actually holding a conversation with Frank then
maybe I would consider ditching the books, but I know that would be very near
impossible for me, especially in such a one on one environment. So I just shrug
and keep writing in my notepad.

 “You don’t want to talk?” he asks.

 “As you m-must al-ready know, I’m not m-m-much good with the whole
t-talking thing.”

 “Well I like to hear you talk,” he tells me in disagreement.

 I shake my head. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

 “Look,” he says in a cheerful voice, “you’re getting better by the
minute, you didn’t stutter once there. And no, it is not a lie. You’ve got a
pretty voice. I like to listen to it.”

 “Even so,” I manage to say, concealing how his compliment makes me
breathless.

 Frank doesn’t say anything then, but instead places his hand on my
wrist, he lightly strokes across with his thumb. “I want to get to know you
Florence.” His touch shocks me and quickly I withdraw my hand.

 “Don’t c-call me that.”

 “Why not? I like Florence, it’s timeless, reminds me of flowers. Did you
know that you smell like daisies
Florence
?”

 “Huh?” I ask, not getting him at all. He’s too familiar with me for
someone I just met a few days ago.

 “Yeah, to me you smell like fresh daisies in the sun.”

 “You’re strange Frank,” is all I can say to that. He noticed what I
smell like? That makes me flush to my very bones.

 “Strange can be good,” he says with a smile that would melt the coldest
of hearts.

 Then I notice a flame swirl out of his aura, twisting prettily, and of
all things I reach out to touch it. Even more absurd is that I can’t help but
to blurt out what I say next.

 “You really are strange to me Frank, strange like fire.”

 He looks to his right shoulder, where I’d touched the flame that is all
but invisible to him.

 “What do you mean by fire?” he asks, and if I didn’t know any better I’d
say there was a note of caution in his voice.

 I try to back track when I say, “I don’t know, you just remind me of
fire for some reason,” and then I shrug and turn back to my homework.

 Frank turns away too then, he takes out a battered sketchpad and begins
doodling on the cover, and I think I hear him say, “Perceptive,” in a quiet
voice but I can’t be certain.

The days pass by without incident, but on Thursday night I have a dream
that’s real. Of course, I know what you might say, if the dream was a dream
then how could it have been real? But I can’t explain it. All I know is that
when I fell asleep I was transported to another place and I wasn’t asleep any
more.

 It
had
to have been real, everything I could see, smell, touch,
all intensely vivid. Intensely frightening. Sickening. Revolting. Inhuman. It
was cold, cold like being outside at three in the morning and you haven’t slept
yet. Itchy lips and achy knees.

 A frosty, stagnant, slow gust of air slid up my back and the shiver that
ran down my spine made me shake to the very core of my being. There was no
light, not even from the moon. No windows. At first all I could see was
blackness, and as my eyes became accustomed, bare grey concrete floors, walls
of a similar shade, the moisture dripping from them, sweating almost, indicated
that the location was more than likely subterranean.

 I took a shallow breath in and then out, and I could see the air leave
my lips, like dry ice. I took a step forward. There didn’t seem to be anybody
else present, but as I strained my eyes I began to see figures at the far
corner of the long room, almost twenty feet away. For a second I thought they
were just really short, but then I realised that they were hunched over
something. Before I could register what I was seeing, or make out what the hell
was going on, the word GREEDY flashed in my mind, out of nowhere and making
absolutely no sense at all. Greedy. Greedy. Greedy.

 The figures were still hazy in my vision, and I could hear them before I
could fully make them out. Crack. Crack. Squelch. A female voice laughed, high
and hysterical, more of a cackle that a laugh really. There was far too much
conspiracy and dark triumph in the tone for it to have been a laugh of
merriment.