Kiss of Fire (7 page)

“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 stopped dead in my tracks. His face had changed; his eyes were panicked and drifting, like he was afraid 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 then stopping 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 you’re 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?

I don’t remember when I’ve laughed so much. That’s not to say that I have never laughed with Ryland, I have. Somehow, though, 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 dreamed 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. 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 gotten 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. 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 together, 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. 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 and 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.

“How’d you get it?” Wyn asked, coming up behind me and leaning on the dresser. “Accidental maiming, fell off a stage, helicopter rescue gone wrong?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know how much I trusted her. I just continued to stare at it in the mirror, part of me wanting to touch it; the other part continuing to scream at me to run.

“Nothing as cool as that,” I managed, making it clear I wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Have you shown it to Ryland? Boys love scars; I bet he would love this one.” Her voice had taken on a strange quality that made me a bit uncomfortable.

I spun away from the mirror to face her. Her eyes were wide and eager.

“No! I would never show Ryland! You’re the first person to see it, besides my mom.”
And my dad
, but I wasn’t going to get into that.

“Really? Wow, now I feel special.” She slugged me playfully in the shoulder. “But you should totally not hide that away, that thing is awesome!” She bounced back over to the bed, landing in the center, springs creaking.

“Not to me,” I mumbled.

Wyn continued to look at me, as if she expected something. I wasn’t going to give her the benefit of an answer, not today anyway. Besides, what could I say that was believable? My life could be considered normal until it came to that mark and then it was full of mysterious illnesses and disappearing fathers.

The way this evening had turned out had become very confusing and complicated. Why did the past few days have to be so… weird? I just wanted to hide and forget that Wyn had ever caught a glimpse of the ugly thing, forget that odd men were watching me, forget that I could throw girls into ceilings, forget that Ry kept trying to kiss me.

“I gotta go.” I was sure the disappointment in my voice was not missed. I grabbed my bag and started heading toward the door.

“Hey, Jos.” Wyn caught up with me, catching me before I disappeared through the door. Her inadvertent use of Ryland’s nickname for me sent a shiver up my spine. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t know it was a taboo thing. I’ll pretend I never saw it.” She smiled at me, her voice sincere.

“Thanks, Wyn, It’s just—” I hesitated; I had to tell her something. “It’s just that, that… thing… has kind of ruined my life.”

“Don’t let it anymore, ’kay?”

I nodded and her face brightened.

“So, don’t go. I won’t mention it again, and we still have a stupid movie to watch.”

“Thanks, Wyn, but I do have to go. I actually
do
have homework to do.” I tried to sound indifferent, but I wasn’t sure it worked.

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

I just nodded in agreement, shutting the door to her apartment behind me.

---

I stood outside Wyn’s apartment complex for about ten minutes, trying to decide where to go. I needed to talk to my mom. I didn’t know what I would say to her that wouldn’t end in a fight, but I felt so naked and exposed after Wyn’s innocent discovery of my mark.

I made sure my hair covered the right side of my face before I turned my long board in the direction of the bus that would take me into the wealthy district of town. There were still about forty-five minutes until dinner would be served in the LaRue’s dining hall, meaning my mom still had about two hours or more of work. Rather than wait at home, alone, for her to get there, I opted to face the hustle of the big kitchen at dinner time. Spending forty minutes alone on the bus was still better than waiting alone for two or more hours before she would get off.

The bus stopped and I quickly boarded. The neon lights were already on, illuminating the plastic seats and metal floor with a strange, blue glow. I made my way to the middle and sat with my hood up, backpack sitting on my lap and my head leaning against the glass. As the blue sky deepened around me, it felt like everything inside loosened up, calming down and becoming brighter.

Wyn had said I had let the mark ruin my life. At first I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. To me, my life seemed to be pretty okay. I had a great best friend, a mother who really cared, and I did well in school. On the other hand, I also hated school because it meant that I had to be around other kids—that I had to hide.

I didn’t “have to” do anything, though. I didn’t “have to” cover myself up. I didn’t “have to” pretend to be invisible. Maybe Cynthia only saw something off in me because I made her see me that way.

I had been hiding myself because of the mark, not letting anyone get too close. I wouldn’t let myself make any friends. The only reason I let Ryland in is because he had been persistent. He had held my hand as I got over my insecurities and had promised, from a young age, to always be there. So, without Ry, I was friendless and alone.

My mother worked upwards of sixty hours a week, my best friend wasn’t really allowed to be my friend, and I was picked on at school.

My life did suck, and all because I allowed a stupid mark to destroy me.

I laid my head against the back of the seat and watched as the city lights of old-fashioned neon and new-aged fluorescent blended together in a rainbow blur of colors until the city laid far behind and ever-expanding houses laid before me.

There had been a reason I let the mark control my life, and as much as I rationalized my behavior and my loneliness, the fact still remained that I was broken, that my dad didn’t want me. Mark or no mark, the outcome would be the same.

Their last fight still haunted me. I would still revisit it in monthly nightmares; the screaming more intense, more audible, more of the blame placed on me. I would wake up covered in sweat, only to turn over and cry into my pillow in the desperate hope that my mom wouldn’t hear. She never did.

I exited the bus, grateful for the evening air that swirled around me. My long board clicked loudly as I traveled the last five minutes of alleys and side streets until I arrived at the door to the kitchen.

The click-click of the long board ricocheted around my head as the fight replayed again. It still rattled me, it still hurt, but it wasn’t as bad. And through it all, I realized something. My dad left me; he ran away from me. He ran away because of the mark, and I didn’t want anyone else to run, too. So I hid. I just didn’t want to get hurt anymore. All this time, and I hadn’t realized how broken I was inside.

I arrived in the kitchen of the LaRue’s just as dinner was being served to the family. As I had expected, the kitchen was in a frenzy of activity as the maids and wait-staff rushed around with trays of food and decanters of who knows what. My mom was busy rushing around and yelling different instructions to different staff members.

I dodged and weaved my way through the activity to find my usual barstool. It always surprised me that so many people were needed to serve only Ryland and his father. After a few minutes, the staff disappeared, leaving my mother and Mette to clean and prepare for the dessert course.