Burn Before Reading

by Sara Wolf

" - how would you know?" Wolf asked. "You've never once spoken to anyone for a long period of time. You’re always wrapped up in reading some huge book."

  "Are you keeping tabs on me like some creepy stalker?" I snapped. "Oh, wait, you do that for everyone you give a red card to, don't you?"

  "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize you aren't the type to make friends easily," Wolf drawled.

  "Oh! I saw her talking to Kristin this morning!" Amanda said. "They got like, super close. Really close. I think Kristin has a crush on her -"

  "That's -" I sputtered. "That's ridiculous! We only just met."

  "That doesn't matter," Amanda sing-songed. "Trust me, I've got a great crush-detector. I can definitely tell she's a, you know, lesbian. You'd make a great couple."

  She said it like it was a dirty word, something bad. My skin crawled at her awfulness, but that only lasted until Wolf spoke.

  "Enough." He said, so sharply it left me with whiplash. "You're a lot of things, Amanda, but I thought you were better than malicious ignorance."

  Amanda crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at me. Of course she was aiming it at me - she thinks this is all my fault. If only I was nicer to Wolf. If only I was less stuck up. If only, if only, if only I wasn't all these things people think I am.

  When the bell rang for next period, I bolted from my seat. I wanted to put as much distance between me and everything back there as soon as possible. Wolf was faster, somehow, stepping in front of me before I could get seven paces out the door.

  "You're not going to change your mind about taking my twenty, are you?" He asked, walking backwards effortlessly as I strode forwards. I aimed my gaze over his shoulder. His face was still off limits.

  "No. I'm never going to take it. I don't want anything you have to offer, and I never will."

  He stopped, falling off to the side. I pushed past him and walked up the stairs. I was too afraid to look back, too ashamed. The farther away I got from him, the longer the usual school day went, the more and more I realized he'd been right. I didn't talk to anyone. Sure, I overheard people talking about stupid stuff like brand name bags and what drugs they were going to score for Riley's party, but I never listened longer than that. I always tuned them out.

  Friday morning, I went running with Burn again. He ran silently and I not-so-silently huffed and puffed as I tried to keep up with him. He waited for me, again, at the halfway point, and we watched the same beautiful sunrise spread over the horizon. It was peaceful, centering. As much as I hated the running part, it was worth it. It was worth it to just sit here and have all your problems be put in perspective.

  If Wolf was right about me being stuck up, was it really such a bad thing?

  "Is being stuck-up a bad thing?" I asked Burn. He downed some water from his bottle and offered it to me. I hesitated for a split-second, then took it, waterfalling it into my mouth just in case he was the type to hate second-hand saliva.

  "It's only bad if it hurts someone," Burn said after a long consideration. "People call me stuck up."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't talk to anyone," Burn said. "And that makes people think I don't like them."

  "Yeah, they're just assuming things about you," I agreed. "I think you're pretty chill."

  "That's assuming, too." He said. "You've spent a total of four hours with me in your life."

  "Four hours is better than none!" I insisted. He nodded.

  "I guess."

  "So what do you do?" I asked. "When people call you stuck up?"

  "Ignore them," He kneeled to tie his shoe, and it was weird to see someone so tall and intimidating bent in half. "But before I ignore them, I make sure to listen. If you listen to people, you understand them. And if you understand them, understand where they're coming from, you aren't stuck up, no matter what they say."

  His words kept with me, even after we parted ways at the trail's head.

  So I decided to try.

  That's right, pen-and-paper. I, Beatrix Cruz, decided to swallow my pride and try something new.

  I spent all of Friday listening to students in the halls talk, to the smaller conversations, the one-on-ones instead of the huge groups. They talked about their parent's strict expectations, their worries about not being smart enough for college even if they were guaranteed to get in with their parent's money. I noticed more things instead of writing them off; a girl came out of a bathroom stall clutching a pregnancy test, her eyes swollen with crying. Two freshman guys who always sat in a corner of my class whispered that they didn't understand the homework and were too scared of being made fun of to ask the teacher. I watched Jackie, who was in another of my classes, open her purse to get a pen, and spotted the label of a pill bottle inside with a very familiar name; Axoprol, the same stuff Dad takes for his depression. Nobody takes anti-depressants for fun, I knew that much.

  Why had I not noticed any of this before? I just wrote everyone around me off as a product of too-much-money, and don't get me wrong - they were still very much rich. But they were also people, and I'd refused to see that. Why? I had no idea. I'd been worried about Dad, I guess. I'd been worried about my grades. I'd been worried about the future. I had a hundred and one reasons, but none of them were excuses.

  Wolf had been right.

  Wolf had been right and I hated it.

  So I did what anyone with a fresh wound in their pride would do; I went to the library and buried myself in books. Not the fantasy books – no matter how much I wanted to. I wanted to give in and lose myself in other worlds for a while, if only to get away from all this crap. Except I couldn’t. Except if I did that, I’d be wasting precious time. So I went to my usual haunt – the psychology textbook section.

  But that just irritated me more - how could I read so many of these psychology books and not realize I was judging people harshly in my own brain? How could I help people if I judged them like that? If I ever wanted to become a shrink worth a damn, I needed to seriously step up my self-awareness game.

  "There you are!”

  I looked up to see Fitz walking towards me, sandy hair wind-blown and his hands in his pockets. A huge grin was on his lips. I shielded my face with a book.

  "Can't a girl have an existential crisis in peace?" I groaned.

  "Oh, is that what we're doing right now?" He chirped. "Because I thought you and I had a tutoring session. Or did you forget?"

  "If I recall," I scowled as he put one finger on my book-shield and lowered it. "Halfway through our talk about tutoring we had a horrendous argument and I stormed off to confront Wolf about something stupid."

  "And then you embraced him lovingly," Fitz continued. I gaped.

  "What? No! Where did you hear that?"

  "The entire varsity swim team - who, if I may remind you, was there when it happened - insists you tried to kiss him. It's all they've been talking about for two days; captain of the swim team, the one and only Stoically Nasty Prince Wolfgang, allows a lady to touch his face for an extended period of time! How scandalous!"

  Fitz mimed fainting like an 18th-century dame, and I suddenly felt sick. Was that the rumor that'd been going around? Holy shit - was that what it really looked like to an observer? I definitely, under no circumstance, could look at Wolf again. Not even at his hand, or over his shoulder, or a single flyaway hair of his. Nothing. Ever again.

  I tried to bury my heated face in my book-shield, but Fitz pulled a chair up to the table and slammed a few heavy books of his own down.

  “What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “We had a deal,” He said lightly. “I’d tutor you, if you apologized to Wolf. And you did. Sort of. Not really. But it’s the thought that counts. Let's start with the War of the Roses, shall we? That's what the upcoming quiz is on."

  "I don't want -"

  "You do," He insisted, eyes sparkling. "You want a good grade. I know that you, more than anyone in this goddamn school, wants goo
d grades. So c'mon. Sit up. Let's refresh that naive-yet-clever little brain of yours."

  Inwardly, some part of me cheered. This was exactly what I wanted. This is exactly what I needed if I wanted Mr. Blackthorn to keep my scholarship up. But the victory still felt a little hollow. It was just an act, after all. We weren’t really becoming friends. It was just for the scholarship.

  "I can't - I can't pay you. I've got nothing to pay you with and I don't want your charity."

  "Yes, I'm aware you hate charity," Fitz exhaled. "If you really are stuck on paying me back, just think of this like a raincheck. You owe me in the future, alright? Just a little favor, or an errand, and we'll be even."

  I wrinkled my nose. I was pretending to struggle in that class, but would owing Fitz really be worth it? I shook my head. Of course it would be. I was already doing pretty well with Burn - getting to know him slowly. And now that Fitz was willing to tutor me, I was two-thirds of the way there! All that's left was -

  Wolf.

  But that would never happen. I'd sunk that ship so far down they might as well have started calling it the Titanic. Burn and Fitz would be enough. They had to be.

  I never expected Fitz to be a good teacher, but he was. Despite the fact he slept through all of the class, he knew everything we'd covered, top to bottom. His teaching was easy to understand, and he even managed to make it fun. I couldn't keep myself from smiling and laughing at the history jokes he'd make. The hardest part of it all was remembering to play stupid - to not immediately give him the right answer. He drew stick figures to represent all the royalty I had to memorize, and I called them ugly. He then drew a stick figure of himself, which he claimed was his most beautiful work yet. We got sidetracked, and he drew Burn - huge and sleepy-eyed - and then Wolf, with his perpetually angry face and sharp eyebrows.

  "And this is you," Fitz announced. He drew a stick figure with the long ponytail I usually wore and an armful of books.

  "That's way too many books!" I protested. "I look like I'm about to fall over!"

  "No, no, that's Wolf," He corrected. "Trying to push you over with telekinesis."

  "Ah, so that's the Blackthorn secret. You're all supernatural telekinetics."

  "And vampires," He said. "Huge, godly, vegetarian vampires who sparkle in the sunlight constantly."

  "Just like a disco ball."

  "That's us; three massive disco balls," He agreed. "With great hair and no modesty."

  I laughed, but it was cut off by my phone buzzing. Dad. I made a motion for Fitz to wait as I walked away and picked up.

  "Hey, Dad! Is everything okay?"

  "Why do you always ask that?" He sighed. "Just a 'hello' would be fine."

  My throat squeezed. "Right. Sorry. Hello. Any plans for dinner yet? I could stop and pick us up some pad thai or something if you don't feel like cooking."

  "I can cook, Beatrix." His voice got cross. "I'm capable of cooking, alright?"

  It was happening. That spiral where nothing I could say would help was just beginning. If I let it go on too long, he'd get more and more irritated, until he snapped. And then, after he snapped, he'd feel so terrible about it he wouldn't get out of bed for days. I had to cut it off here, at the head.

  "Okay!" I forced my voice to be cheery. "That's great! I'm just at the library, but I'll head home now."

  Dad quieted, and then; "What are you doing there? Reading?"

  "Studying. With a -" I looked over at Fitz, who waved a few fingers at me and smiled with all his freckles. " - a classmate."

  "Oh, that's good. Are you two friends?"

  "I'm not sure - it's still too early to tell."

  "It shouldn't be too hard to figure out, Bee. It's so easy to make friends at your age."

  I swallowed the urge to correct him. I didn't want to start an argument.

  "Yeah. Well, I'll be home soon, okay?"

  "Okay. Drive safe."

  He hung up, and so did I. I stared at the blank screen of the phone for a moment, resting my arms on the glass rail of the balcony. Today had clearly been a bad day for him. Part of me wanted to go home as soon as I could, to make sure he was alright. The other part of me, the selfish part, didn't want to go home at all.

  But there was no choice. I had to. What I wanted didn’t matter – I had to make sure Dad ate. He wouldn’t do it if it was just him, alone at the house. I walked back over to Fitz.

  “Thanks for the session, teach. But I’ve gotta go.”

  “So soon?” He lamented. “We were just about to get to the juicy bits – beheadings.”

  “Sorry,” I packed my things up. “But I really do have to go. Let’s – let’s do this again. I had fun.”

  “Surprisingly, I did too.” He tilted his head. “Weird. I thought I stopped that nonsense when I was twelve.”

  “Right when you hit puberty, huh?” I joked.

  “Oh you know it. I got zitty, hormonal – I transformed into a gross teenage boy who has no fun ever.”

  I laughed, and started to walk away.

  “Hey! Scholarshipper!” He called. I turned.

  “I have a name.”

  “Right. Bee,” He corrected. “Kristin told me you’re going to Riley’s party. That true?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “No shouting in the library!” The librarian hissed up at him. Fitz pressed his hands together as if begging for an apology, and I shook my head and left.

  Chapter 9

  If I knew what I knew now about what was going to happen at Riley's party that night, I never would've gone. Just thinking about it while I'm writing makes me want to build a time machine, travel back, and lock myself in a closet for the night. Just that one night. It changed everything, and lately I can't help but think it was for the worst.

  But I'm getting off-topic, pen-and-paper. You can't understand what I haven't told you. So let's start over.

  An hour before the party, I made sure Dad had something to eat. I ate a bit, but my stomach was too nervous to keep a lot down, so I distracted myself by rifling through my closet. Again, all I really had was that one sundress, but it was way too fancy for a house party. Right? Right. Crap, who was I kidding - I'd never been to a party in my life. There was obviously going to be booze, and probably definitely rich-kid drugs, and a host of other debaucheries.

  I held up a Wonder Woman t-shirt to my chest in the mirror and breathed out.

  "You're only going to see what the Blackthorn brothers are doing," I told myself. "Everything else doesn't matter. No drinking, no dancing, no nothing. We keep an eye on them, and we pretend to drink. No pressure."

  I looked at the clock as its dreaded hands inched nearer to nine. My voice got higher.

  "No pressure. Oh god, no pressure at all."

  The knock on my door scared me. I crammed most of the clothes I’d brought out into the closet quickly and cleared my throat.

  “Come in.”

  Mom peeked around the door, all smiles. Someone was behind her, too.

  “Hi, sweetie!”

  “Oh, hey! You’re home early.”

  “I just wanted to stop by the house and get a change of clothes,” She said as she walked in. “Candace here has offered to take me to a spa! Isn’t that nice?”

  I nodded at the lady behind her, a brunette lady about Mom’s age with the same nurse-worked-overtime dark circles and weary air about her.

  “Candace, meet Beatrix,” Mom extended her hand at me. “Beatrix, Candace.”

  I was used to meeting her friends, so I smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hello,” Candace grinned. “It’s good to meet you in person. You’re all your mom talks about, you know.”

  “Oh, stop.” Mom laughed. “Sometimes I talk about the weather, too! She’s going to Lakecrest, Candace.”

  “Yes, yes,” Candace giggled. “I’ve heard it all before. But still, it’s very impressive. You must be so smart, Be
atrix. I wish my son was like you – I can barely get him off the couch to do something other than play videogames, let alone get him to study.”

  “Tell her where you’re planning to go for college, Bee,” Mom pressed eagerly. It felt a little weird, being made to tell all my plans to this random lady, but I smiled.

  “Uh, NYU.”

  “Oh wow,” Candace marveled. “Well, I’m sure you’ll get in, if you’re graduating from Lakecrest. Everyone gets in if they go to Lakecrest.”

  Mom looked down at her phone. “Crap, we’re going to be late. Okay, sweetie, Candace and I are off. Did your Dad have something to eat?”

  I nodded. “I made him a sandwich.”

  She swooped over and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Bee,” Candace nodded. “Good luck at Lakecrest.”

  “Thanks. I love you too, Mom,” I tried, as she closed my door behind her. Their voices faded down the hall, and I exhaled. That whole thing made me feel like a show-horse, or something. It was super awkward. But the night was young, and awkward was apparently the theme of this month of my life.

  I decided on jeans and the Wonder Woman t-shirt, and pulled an old green military surplus jacket of Dad's on over it. I dabbed my eyes with my usual eyeliner, and stepped back to take myself in. I definitely just looked like I was going to school. My old public school, not the private one that required a uniform, obviously. But that was fine - if I was just there to keep tabs on the brothers, I didn't want to stand out.

  And then Kristin knocked on my door, and I realized I'd never have been able to stand out anyway. She wore a bright blue sleeveless dress, her bronzed shoulders and legs strong and lengthy. Dad looked half-stunned himself when he opened the door. I'd explained to him earlier a friend was picking me up for a sleepover, but now he wasn't going to buy that - not with Kristin all dressed up. I should've thought of that.

  "Hey, Kristin," I smiled nervously at her, then tried to look confident for Dad. "Okay, well. I'll be home before noon tomorrow. I'll give you a call if it's later than that."

  Dad moved his eyes from me to Kristin, confused.