Claiming Flame

by Desi Lin

  Hesitantly, I stepped backward.

  “I’m an Ignis,” I shot out with a saucy grin at JJ. “I’m always hot.”

  I skirted around him, easily evading his attempt to grab hold of my hand and winked at Souta and Brooks as I sauntered by. I liked them and didn’t want to hurt them with my need to put some distance between us. Strangely, I wanted to keep them as friends.

  Even though we all had first period together, I hurried into the school. I needed space and time. I needed air. I needed...fuck...were walls too much to ask? Only a week since we met, and everything seemed to be going sideways. No matter how hard I tried, keeping my distance seemed impossible. JJ’s blatant attraction made me want to run, but Souta confused the hell out me. Souta was dating Brooks, so what in the name of the elements happened a few moments ago, and why? Brooks, well he seemed to be the only one not throwing me for a loop, but every now and again, I caught a gleam in his eye and a secret in his smile.

  I knew the problem. Fear. Fear they would turn out like all the others in the end. Not strong enough to handle people leaving all the time, I closed myself off long ago. Better to yank the chain on this blooming friendship now.

  Sinking down into my seat in history, I reached into my bag for my notebook and a pencil. Unfortunately, I reached with my injured wrist. Pain darted up my arm, and I bit back a cry. The day before I bought a proper wrap in town and bound it, hiding it under the cuff of the long sleeved, tight, black lace up shirt I wore under my leather jacket. Since I could move it, I didn’t believe I broke my wrist, but a slight swelling and intense pain remained, even with it tightly wrapped.

  I pulled my arm back into my lap without getting out the notebook or pencil. Writing wouldn’t happen today. Hopefully, one of the boys would take decent notes, and I could get a copy. As if my thoughts of them drew them to me, they entered the room and grinned before taking their seats.

  JJ leaned over and dropped a kiss next to my ear and whispered, “No running, firefly. We like a chase.”

  Those damn sparks shot down my spine again as he sat next to me.

  A rap from the front of the room drew my gaze away from JJ. Mrs. Kalan took in the assembled throng of teenagers and sighed before launching into a droning, mind numbing lecture. I detested this class mostly because of Mrs. Kalan’s teaching style. A few of my past teachers proved history could be fun and interesting. When I was forced to sit and listen to someone’s monotonous drone, like they were bored to tears, it killed the joy.

  When I failed to take notes like usual, I noticed a couple questioning glances sent my way from the guys. Then, about halfway through class, as I sat picking at fuzz on one of the many rips lining my tight black jeans, I caught on to the sudden and abrupt silence. I jerked my head up to meet a pair of angry eyes hidden behind ass ugly glasses.

  “Am I boring you, Miss Embers?” Mrs. Kalan asked sternly.

  Aw, fuck. I tried to put an apologetic expression on my face. “No ma’am.”

  “Perhaps you consider my history a waste of time, then?” Her voice hardened further, and she stepped closer, looming over me. Anger bloomed at her attempt at intimidation, and I tried hard to keep it from leaking out.

  “No, ma’am.” I bit out the words. “I love history.”

  “Then, you’ve already read ahead and know everything there is to know about the Elementum during the Salem Witch Trials?” No one in the class could mistake her ire as she slapped her hand down on my desk hard.

  “No, ma’am.” I spat out the clipped words, knowing I would blow if she pushed anymore.

  Of course, she pushed. “Then you apparently don’t give a damn about school. Well, I won’t have it in my class, missy. You’ll take notes like everyone else, or I’ll fail you regardless of your grades.”

  That did it. I worked hard to maintain my grades, and I refused to let one bitch teacher drag me down for something I couldn’t help. I stood up fast, my chair clattering to the floor.

  Getting right into the bitch’s face, I slammed my hands down on my desk, ignoring the sharp jolt of pain shooting up my arm. “Listen you fucking bitch. You and half the other staff members here won’t give me half a chance based strictly on what that loser who ran the last school said about me. I’m fucking tired of being treated like a juvenile delinquent for wanting to have a little fun. For element’s sake, I’m an orphan and the only ward of the Concilium Maximus! Do you know what it’s like not having a normal childhood? To be shuttled around from school to school, state to state? To be forced to leave behind every friend you make and die a little more inside as one by one they turn away from you because they can’t handle the fucking distance? To want to be part of something more so goddamned badly you’d do anything to feel like you belonged?”

  Tears poured down my cheeks in rivers, and embarrassment ran through me as the tirade of deep-seated feelings I held inside for a long time let loose. In horror, I glanced around the room to find the open-mouthed stares of every person trained on me. Elements, what the fuck had I done? Pity swelled in a few gazes, and I couldn’t take it. I didn’t even try to glance at the guys. It would break me if I found pity it in their eyes. Instead I plastered a sneer on my face.

  “Fuck all of you for being so judgmental!” The snarl broke from my throat as I shoved past desks and kicked bags out of my way running from the room.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The blessedly empty courtyard greeted me as I slammed through the doors, headless of the pain in my wrist. Over the weekend, I found a bench tucked away in a corner behind a fountain. Little more than a couple feet of concrete, the lush foliage helped hide it from view, making it a perfect spot for someone in need of solitude. I sank down on the bench and pulled my feet up. Tucking my injured wrist into my stomach, I wrapped my good arm around me knees and rested my head on the soft fabric of my frayed jeans.

  I shook with combined rage and embarrassment. After only a week here, my emotions seemed to be a damn mess. This incident drove home the fact I needed to reinforce my walls. I allowed myself to become too vulnerable. There was no way I could continue hanging out with the boys.

  Shuffling footsteps made me jerk my head up. They couldn’t find me here, could they? I shook harder and choked down the sobs trying to escape. The steps closed in and rounded the fountain. I nearly bolted, until the sun glinted off blond curls tipped in deep blue. Brooks.

  Without a word, he sat down next to me on the bench. I stared in wide-eyed shock. Of the three guys, Brooks I knew the least. His quiet, stay-in-the-background personality meant he tended to keep to himself, which I figured out early on. He reached over, his large, warm hand encompassing mine and drawing it to his lips. He kissed the back of it, holding my still shocked gaze with his own pale blue eyes then rested our joined hands in his lap.

  “You don’t need to talk.” His deep, low rumble washed over me. “But I make a good listener.”

  Part of me wanted to take him at his word and not say a thing. Somehow the other part of me drowned it out, screaming at me to talk to him, to trust him, to put myself out there and be part of something for once. The feeling of rightness, more than anything else, loosened my lips.

  “I don’t want to be some sad sob story,” I sighed. His eyes boring into mine became too intimate, and I let my gaze wander, taking in the bright reds, blues, and greens of the foliage around us. “That’s not...not who I am.” I stumbled over the words. “Not who I... want to be.”

  “You're not a sob story, but you obviously experience strong feelings concerning some things about your past, your situation.” The soft, quiet rumble of his voice enhanced the sense of intimacy. His thumb stroked across my palm, sending those damn sparks down my spine again. “Have you ever talked to anyone about any of this?” I shook my head. “I didn’t think so. Talk to me, then. Maybe it will help.”

  At the nervous glance I sent in the direction of the school, Brooks’ other arm came up and gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes once more. “Hey, this
is a judgment free bench and a zone of silence. Nothing you say will be judged. Nothing you say will leave this bench unless you choose to reveal it, okay?”

  I nodded and tried to pull out of his grip, but he smiled softly and shook his head.

  “You caught some of it when I went on my little tirade.” A wry grin spread across my face. “I’m an orphan, a ward of the Concilium Maximus.”

  “Can’t remember ever hearing of anyone being ward of the Concilium before.”

  I shook my head. “According to our known history, I’m the first. My mother died in the hospital, an only child whose parents died long before I came along. It’s all I know about my family. The Concilium took custody of me straight from the hospital.”

  “What about your father?”

  Ah, the question I dreaded. “I don’t know. She never revealed who my father was to anyone. I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead, single or married or anything.” The void in my life where a father should fit hurt more than anything else.

  Strong arms suddenly wrapped around me. He gathered me up onto his lap and tucked me into his chest. I stiffened, then gave in to the comfort he offered and buried my face in his shoulder. He smelled fresh, like the air after rain.

  “You have a foster family?” he asked. A reasonable assumption, but I shook my head.

  “Not for a long time.” His shoulder muffled my words. I turned my face to the side and repeated myself. My breath washed over his neck, and I swore he shivered. “I vaguely remember a family, but not since I started school. Once I became old enough to attend Illustratio, I lived there year round. Over winter and summer breaks, one of the families in the area houses me. Sometimes more than one, depending on what May can arrange. Then, of course, at some point over the summer break, the Concilium moves me to a different state and everything begins all over at a new Illustratio.”

  Brooks pulled back, concern etched into his features as he scanned my face, “Wait, are you telling me you’ve been to a new school, every year since you turned five?”

  I nodded, unable to voice my fears.

  “That’s just...wow. No wonder you put up walls.”

  My brow furrowed at his words.

  He caught my expression and dropped a quick kiss to my forehead. “No frowning. Knowing helps me understand a little of your frustration. My family, my folks and my older sister, they’re all extremely...loud? Gregarious? I don’t know quite how to put it. My situation is not quite the same but enough that I kind of get it.”

  He grinned at me and brushed at my hair. I rested my head back on his shoulder, for once enjoying the embrace we remained in. Surprise ran through me as I realized I wanted to know more about Brooks.

  “My family is always going to parties and events, or throwing them. Even when it’s only the four of us, they’re talking over each other, all the time about everything, or playing some game together that leads to good natured ribbing and arguing. They’re great but they’re kind of in-your-face.”

  “And you couldn’t be any more different.” I stated the obvious.

  The urge to run my hand over his cheek and press our lips together surged up in me, and I nearly gave in, until I remembered his boyfriend. Instead, I squeezed him tight for a moment.

  He returned the gesture before continuing. “Yeah, they kind of drag me along and want me to participate, and I get frustrated because they don’t understand. I tend to put up these walls with this family time face on them. I hate it, and sometimes I–”

  “Want to scream at them to make them stop and understand?” I finished for him.

  He did get it after all. I scooted back out of his arms and onto the bench as our gazes meet. The urge to crawl back into his lap and stay for a while passed through me, but I forced myself to shake it off. Apparently, I needed a little physical distance between us. I started to scoot back when the bell rang, giving me a perfect excuse without ruining this moment. I stood and shouldered my bag.

  “Thanks,” I said quietly. “We should probably get to class.”

  Brooks nodded, and we headed inside, Brooks holding the door for me.

  I worried about how Souta and JJ would react to my little morning rant, but after quick glances at Brooks, and what seemed like a silent conversation, they didn’t say anything about it.

  Was I a fool for worrying, a fool for trying to be friends with them? They would forget about me in a few months when I moved on, and I would be hurt again.

  Yet, I couldn’t help myself, I felt better after talking to Brooks. Even Souta’s constant need to touch me, to touch all of us, didn’t bother me. Something inside me seemed to accept these guys as part of my life. Even though I finally relaxed around them, didn’t mean I missed the sideways glances I kept getting from JJ. I wondered what they meant, but figured he would tell me in time.

  The time came before last period. Souta and I had English together but JJ and Brooks didn’t. I found JJ waiting for me outside the girls’ locker room. He grasped my wrist, my good one thankfully, when I came within reach, pulling me to a stop.

  “Hang on, can I talk to you?” Words hesitant, he seemed unsure, and it confused me.

  I shrugged and nodded.

  His gaze skittered around at all the girls entering the locker room, their gazes coming to rest on us, curiosity on their faces as they passed by. “Not here, come on.”

  He pulled me around the corner, out of sight of the locker rooms and released me. I leaned back on the wall and watched as he shifted from foot to foot, gaze firmly planted on the floor.

  After a minute, I chuckled. He tended to be all cocky confidence most of the time. “JJ, what’s going on? I don’t wanna be late.”

  JJ took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and raised his eyes to mine. He wiped his palm on his jeans, licked his lips, and breathed again. I wanted to chuckle again. In the week I knew him, JJ’s never got flustered. I found it totally adorable.

  “So, um, you’ve seen the posters for the dance Saturday?”

  Now I did laugh. Who hadn’t seen those posters? The committee plastered them everywhere. I nodded and lifted an eyebrow. What was he getting at?

  “I, um, I...I... Would you…” JJ stumbled over his words, and I froze in place.

  No. No way. Please no. He couldn’t do this.

  “Go to the dance with me?” he said in a big rush.

  Fuck! Why? Why did he ask me to the dance? I didn’t know what to say or how to handle this without screwing up the beginning we barely made.

  My biggest problem? I wanted to say yes. I wanted to go to the stupid school dance with him and dress up. To find out how he and Souta and Brooks appeared all dressed up. I wanted to dance with all three of them and watch Souta and Brooks being all sweet and coupley. I wanted to enjoy a fun night with my friends. The want surprised the hell out of me. But it wasn’t going to happen.

  Saturday, I planned to lock myself in my room for the day. If it were any other Saturday, any other day, but this one coming up? The word yes would come out so fast his head would spin, but not this Saturday.

  “I... I can’t,” I choked the words out. Hurt and disappointment flashed over his face, and I couldn’t handle it. I took the coward’s way out and ran around the corner and into the locker room.

  Unfortunately, this only got me a few minutes’ reprieve. Today, we worked on self-defense, both powered and unpowered, with partners.

  Of course, it was my luck Coach partnered me with JJ.

  “Why?” JJ whispered in my ear as he copied the hold coach demonstrated, one arm across my throat and the other across my stomach, pinning one hand to my side and gripping my forearm on the other.

  “Why what?” I whispered back, knowing full well what he wanted and stalling for time. I couldn’t tell him the truth.

  “Why can’t you come to the dance with me?” We moved slowly through the motions Coach wanted us to practice, then he began moving among us as we worked through them.

  “You want to,” JJ whispered
when I failed to answer. He didn’t ask, but stated. The desire on my face, apparently clear enough for him to read. Coach stopped by and watched us for a moment, correcting a couple things, and then moved on.

  “You said you can’t, not that you didn’t want to,” he whispered when I once again didn’t answer him.

  He didn’t stop for the rest of the period. He never sounded angry or frustrated, only continued to make statements and ask why. I stayed silent. I couldn’t tell him the embarrassing truth.

  JJ grasped my waist when the bell rang, refusing to let me go. “Come on, Sera, please tell me why?”

  For a moment, as I met his pleading gaze, I wanted to give in and tell him. My mind went back to the courtyard with Brooks, to the weekend at JJ’s. No, they wouldn’t understand. How could they? I pulled out of his hold, and he let me this time.

  “I’m sorry, JJ.” A tear rolled down my cheek as the words came out on a sob. “I just can’t.”

  I ran before the tears could fall in earnest.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I managed to get back to my room before the floodgates opened. Careful of my injured wrist, I flopped across the bed. The tears flowed freely but I contained the sobs trying to escape. Why did I want to go the inane dance with JJ? Why did my heart ache? Examining the inner workings of my brain or heart would never be on my top hundred things I wanted to do list. I shut my feelings and questions out, curled into a ball, and drifted away. Eventually sleep found me.

  A loud bang jolted me out of sleep. Disoriented and bleary, unable to see clearly in the dimness, I struggled to a sitting position, mistakenly putting weight on my injured wrist. I grunted with pain, and then jumped at the sound of footsteps. A familiar growl caused me to come wide awake and scuttle backward to plaster myself against the headboard.