Ignite (Midnight Fire Series Book One)

by Kaitlyn Davis

As Kira waited in line for a parking spot, she studied the sprawling two-story building that took up her entire line of vision. A stone engraving read "Charleston County High School" and Kira sighed at the daunting brick walls before her. Already she could tell it had a layout much different from the private school she had attended in New York, with numerous buildings sandwiched between corporate skyscrapers and spread out over a few city blocks. The students wandered here at a pace much different from the bustle she had grown used to during the past five years spent at the boarding school that she had begged her parents to attend. But last year her father had been laid off, and Kira knew she would be back home for her senior year.

  Her family had lived in Charleston for about four years, but Kira had never met anyone during her summers home. This would be new for her—a huge school that she would definitely get lost in and tons of people who had probably never even heard of The Met.

  A car honked behind her, and Kira continued moving at a slow pace down the parking lot as students took turns swinging trucks into super-sized, yellow-lined spaces. As she took her turn pulling the eco-friendly car her parents loved into a spot, she knew she wouldn’t quite fit in here. Kira looked to her left at the person sitting in the passenger seat of a pickup truck, a full two feet above her, and felt as tiny and invisible as she probably seemed to him.

  But enough, she thought, straightening her shoulders.

  Kira hated self-pity more than anything, so she grabbed her shoulder bag and made for the front door with the rest of the crowd. She did give Charleston one thing, the smell of marsh and pine was a heck of a lot better than that of car exhaust and garbage.

  "Name?" the secretary asked as Kira entered the main office for her schedule.

  "Kira Dawson."

  "Year?"

  "Senior." Kira ran her hands down the sides of her royal blue sundress, smoothing out the wrinkles to make a good impression on her new classmates.

  "Here you go, honey."

  She took the folder and pulled out a schedule. Advanced Calculus, room 253C. Kira walked out to the hallway and looked around for a sign, anything to point her in the right direction, but saw only bare brick walls. After a few minutes, someone finally took pity on her.

  "Are you new?" A handsome blond guy with a lanky build stood behind her looking over her shoulder at the paper. "Oh, 253C, not an easy walk from here. Come on, I’m next door to you." She followed, having no real other choice. "So you are new, right, or have my great looks made you speechless?"

  Damn, Kira thought, hating to be called out. Time to prove she wasn't a wallflower. "Yeah I’m new, and what good looks? You’re so tall I can’t even see your face."

  "Touché." He studied her for a moment, and Kira finally got a good look at his face, which she had to admit wasn’t too shabby. He had wispy hair the color of summer corn, a slightly crooked nose spotted with light-brown freckles, and a wide, friendly smile full of perfectly white teeth. There was something about his eyes, green with flecks of yellow, which she found familiar and almost comforting.

  "I’m Luke Bowrey." He extended his hand, naturally tanned from a summer in the South, and she shook it.

  "Kira Dawson. Nice to meet you, and thanks for the help."

  "Not a problem. When I see a damsel in distress I just can’t help but act the knight in shining armor."

  She laughed despite herself. Kira knew he was cocky, but she also instantly knew they could be friends.

  "Here’s your stop. Hope to see you later," he said and rushed into the classroom next door right as the bell rang.

  She hurried to do the same and quickly sat in the first seat she could find. The math was easier than she was used to, as were chemistry, biology, and Spanish. Her morning passed smoothly as she followed people from classroom to classroom and eventually into the cafeteria big enough to hold all fifteen hundred students at the school.

  Kira had packed her lunch, so she made her way down the rows of tables, searching for an open seat in a friendly crowd, almost giving up until a huge hand landed on her shoulder.

  "Need saving again?"

  She smiled to herself—it was Luke coming to the rescue once more. "I wouldn’t mind it."

  He nodded to the left and she followed him to one of the smaller tables where two boys and another girl sat. "Everyone, this is Kira. Kira, this is everyone."

  The girl rolled her eyes, pointing an exasperated look at Luke.

  "Luke, truly amazing introduction," the slightly goofy looking boy with shaggy brown hair and black-rimmed glasses said, and extended his hand. "Hey Kira, I’m Miles, this is Emma and that’s Dave." He pointed to the girl—who had dyed blonde hair, more makeup on than Kira was capable of applying, and was wearing Lily Pulitzer—and the boy—who had one tanned arm around her chair back and was sporting a baseball cap for the Dallas Cowboys. "We all moved here last winter, but thanks to you we’re no longer the new kids. Not much change happens here. I think five students in one year must be a school record."

  "Wow, so everyone is pretty set in their ways then?" Kira adjusted the curly red ringlet falling over her eyes, slightly nervous in front of this new crowd. "Good thing I found you guys, or good thing I looked lost enough that Luke felt some pity for me."

  "We would have found you eventually," Emma added. "We’re some of the only kids not here since birth and probably the only ones not here since middle school, so it was almost inevitable that we’d adopt the new kid and not upset the balance."

  "The balance?" Kira asked, a little confused. Her school in New York had been a constantly changing atmosphere with girls dressed in anything from Gucci to Forever 21 to leggings with holes in them from a flea market.

  "It’s like this…" Luke put an arm around Kira’s shoulder and steered her gaze to the left side of the large, open room. "First, the cafeteria is divided into four with freshman in the front near the grotesque processed food smell, and older kids filling in the back until you get to the seniors around us who have the best window view of the lake and the biggest tables. Then, each year is divided into your standard groups. The jocks have a table." He pointed to the corner that was a sea of blue jerseys full of boys and girls in uniforms. "Next are the football players and the cheerleaders who fawn on them, the next table over is the just plain popular because of good looks and in rare cases a stellar attitude. In the middle are the average uncategorized and the most down to earth people you’ll meet. And finally, rounding out the senior class, we have the drama nerds mixed with the emos, because who really can tell the difference there."

  She stared at the groups, sort of seeing the distinction in clothes and stature, black leotard looking garments versus regular jeans and a T-shirt or pompoms, but not totally understanding it. She wasn’t used to groups, except for rich and scholarship, which had been the only divide at her private school. But even then, it was sometimes hard to tell just from looks, because the wealthiest students would come to school wearing oversized sweaters with moth holes, and the poorest students might spend a month’s income on one dress.

  "Luke, you forgot the misfits," Miles added and turned his head out the window.

  "Meaning us?" Kira asked, certainly feeling like this motley little group didn’t fit into any of the categories Luke had mentioned.

  "Nah, we’re still the newbies, those are the misfits. Don’t know how I forgot." Luke turned Kira toward the tables outside where three boys and a girl were lounging—all pale despite their position in the sun. "They sort of keep to themselves."

  "Why?"

  "Don’t know. I don’t really know anything about them actually."

  Luke sounded as though he was holding something back, but Kira had only known him for three hours and didn't want to accuse him of lying, especially after all he had done. She looked outside for a moment longer, and even through the glass, she could tell there was something different about them. It was more than the distinction between a jock and a drama nerd—it was something almost
tangible. But whatever it was, she wasn’t going to harp on it now. She had friends to make.

  "So, where are you guys all from?" Kira asked while sliding into one of the open chairs circling the table.

  Dave just pointed to his hat. Kira guessed he was the silent type.

  "He means Dallas," Emma supplied. "I am too. We never knew each other before moving here, isn’t that funny. I mean, he went to my rival school, so not that surprising, but still, it’s pretty crazy."

  "Fate?" Kira said, knowing it was the confirmation Emma searched for and guessing Dave would keep silent.

  "Yup, that’s what I like to believe." They smiled at each other.

  The silence from Dave was something she would get used to, Kira decided, hoping she would eventually become friends with both of them. Especially Emma. She liked her perfectly styled hair, manicured nails, and carefully applied makeup. That sort of knowledge would definitely come in handy in the future, maybe before her next date.

  "Well, I’m a northerner all the way," Miles interjected. "Or I was until my parents moved down here. I lived in Boston and will hopefully be back in Cambridge in no time."

  Kira smiled because Miles definitely looked like the Harvard type, with the pile of books next to his lunch. But she felt a little edge to him too.

  "And now, my turn." Luke adopted his theatrical voice again. "I, dear lady, am from the far reaches of, drum roll please…" He supplied his own when the only response was rolled eyes. "Florida, the sunshine state with glorious beaches, Walt Disney World, and a small town in the middle of nowhere called Sonnyville where I was born and raised."

  "Wait, you’re from a small town?" Kira sputtered, almost spitting out her drink.

  "I get that a lot, but why, I don’t understand."

  "I don’t mean any offense, it’s just that your personality is so…" Kira moved her hands in a wide circle searching for the appropriate word.

  "Charming?" Luke supplied.

  "I think she means big," Miles chipped in, and Luke sat down with a nod of defeat. But Kira just assumed it was more playing around, so she quickly agreed with Miles and smiled.

  "You know, I just love your hair." Emma grabbed at Kira’s curly mess. "Do you dye it?"

  "Nope, unfortunately it’s just what I was born with." Kira self-consciously put a hand to her head. She had always felt weird about her hair. It was a curly mess of bright red and almost white blonde strands that mixed to create a sort of strawberry blonde with a punch.

  "Well, I’m jealous. I wish I had such natural volume, and guys go crazy for a red head."

  "Enough guys already go crazy for you," Dave finally spoke up, pulling Emma tighter into the crook of his arm.

  Ah, the jealous type, Kira thought.

  Luke took a strand of her hair and wrapped the natural curl around his pointer finger. He stared at it intently, almost as if he were in a trance, and Kira stared at him, stuck.

  "Luke, creepy much?" Emma chimed in. Luke dropped the curl immediately, and he and Kira both turned toward Emma. "Whoa, Luke, Kira has your psycho eyes."

  "Really? Look at me," Miles asked with a curious expression. "Whoa," was all he said when they looked over.

  "Let me see." Luke gently held Kira’s chin so she looked into his eyes.

  The moment their gazes touched, she realized why his eyes were so comforting before—she had never seen anyone with irises quite like hers. They were barely green on the outer rim, but that hue was quickly overtaken by a yellow tint with red and orange specks that almost looked like fire. Most people were weirded out by it, but she liked that she wouldn’t be alone in that, at least for the next year.

  "I didn’t think they’d look the same," Luke murmured softly. Kira paused at the words Luke clearly had not meant to say out loud.

  "Well, obviously you wouldn’t think a complete stranger has the same eyes as you,” Emma said, and Kira silently thanked her for commenting. She was still trying to figure out what he was talking about. “What’s up with you today, Luke? You’re acting all mysterious."

  There was a momentary pause. Luke opened his mouth, seemingly unsure of how to answer, but then the lunch bell rang. They all stood up, conversation forgotten. Kira had English with Luke, so he grabbed her arm and started pulling her through the all too confusing hallways she feared she would never figure out. After a few minutes, they arrived at the far side of the building and slid into their seats. More students began trickling in as the bell rang again, but no teacher showed up.

  "Mr. Bell is notorious for being late to class," Luke leaned over and whispered to Kira.

  "Oh, really? How is he still—"

  "Lukey," the girl that Luke had labeled as a misfit plopped down on top of his desk. She had waist-length, stick-straight black hair, and her eyes were impossibly blue, almost like ice. "Hitting on the new girl already? Tsk tsk, you should let her get to know everyone before she’s forced to settle on you."

  "Diana," Luke said tersely. "I thought you graduated."

  She laughed, and her eyes flashed almost white as she stared at Luke. "No, no. I’m quite content to stay in high school forever. And I had to wait for my boys."

  At their mention, the three boys who had been with Diana outside now walked into the classroom. Instantly Kira felt on edge, as though there was something else going on here that she was not privy to but was somehow part of. The look on Luke’s face was strained. Something was happening between him and the others that no one else in the classroom but Kira could feel. She heard laughter and saw students hugging friends they hadn’t seen in a while, but in the back of the classroom, there remained only the tension of a rubber band about to snap.

  "Jerome, Tristan, John," Luke said each name with a stiff nod. They circled around him.

  Kira lost interest in the strained conversation and instead studied the newcomers. Jerome had black skin that miraculously seemed pale and the same steel blue eyes. He was built like a football player, like a running back who was speedy yet surprisingly strong. John had sandy blond hair, shaved close to his head, with a thin and streamlined build.

  Finally, she looked at the guy Luke had called Tristan. He seemed different to her somehow, with jet-black hair that hung over his eyes a little and barely visible dimples that played on his cheeks. His eyes were also an icy blue, but they seemed deeper to her, like steep ravines she could fall into. He stayed out of the conversation, she noticed, as if lost in his own thoughts—ones that seemed more troublesome than the cutting remarks being doled out by his friends. He had a rebel without a cause look that made him perilous for a girl’s heart.

  Suddenly, he turned to Kira. His eyes brightened a shade when they landed on hers, staring. And Kira, who was never one to back down, returned his look with interest.

  "Who are you?" he asked in a barely audible voice filled with surprise, one just loud enough to attract the attention of his friends and Luke. Kira melted at the sound. He was dangerous she knew, but something about him made her feel safe and afraid at the same time.

  "Kira," was all she could respond with. They both looked at each other, trying to unlock the other’s secrets.

  His friends came to circle her now, and she instantly felt cornered. Fear sparked in her heart, a quick flash of lightning. She didn’t quite understand the nerves, but she also couldn’t shake them.

  "Well, what have we here?" Diana leaned in to really look at her, and Kira thought she read shock on the girl’s face despite the confidence in her voice. Tristan laid a hand on Diana’s arm, almost like a warning.

  "Diana, back off," Luke said and tried to come to Kira’s rescue, but it was Mr. Bell who saved her by running into the classroom very late and very out of breath.

  "All right, simmer down people, I just lost track of time in the teacher’s lounge. Welcome to Advanced English, I expect everyone’s full attention for the entire first half of the year, and then after winter break, those of you who are college bound can do some sl
acking."

  A general cheer went up around the room. Even Kira, who didn’t really know how to slack off, let out a smile. She had already decided to take a gap year to work and hopefully travel, but a little slacking wouldn’t be too awful.

  "We’re starting the year off with Shakespeare,” Mr. Bell continued and the cheer changed to a groan. "Come on now, I’ll show you that Shakespeare can be cool, starting with acting lessons. For the next few weeks, we are going to perform scenes from the plays we read, starting with the age-old classic Romeo and Juliet. Next week we’re going to practice acting out emotions, so everyone please put those game faces on."

  The rest of class passed rather quickly as Kira decided she liked Mr. Bell more and more. He was a young teacher who treated them like friends rather than students. Unlike her teachers in New York, she could tell Mr. Bell truly loved teaching, and it wasn’t just a job.

  "Hey Luke," she asked when class ended and the students all dispersed. "What was that at the beginning of class? I thought you said you barely knew anything about those guys."

  "I don’t, Kira. I don’t know anything but a mutual disgust. Can we just leave it at that?"

  She nodded okay but it wasn’t sincere. Something had to have caused that much hatred. At first, Kira thought maybe Diana and Luke used to date, but it seemed less like jealousy and more like something else, something intense that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and Kira didn’t see Luke again. After finishing her last class, she retreated to her car, totally spent.

  On her way home, Kira stopped at the supermarket to pick up ingredients for her latest recipe, the one she had thought up during calculus instead of going over differential equations. All she had ever wanted to do was be a chef. And while other students her age were applying to college, she was practicing her knife and cooking skills whenever she got the opportunity, resulting in lots of good food for her family and lots of experience for future entrance examinations to culinary schools. During her gap year, Kira would hopefully be perfecting her skills in a real restaurant kitchen, but for now, she just practiced on her own. Tonight Kira was feeling homey, so she bought fresh tomatoes, spices, and flour to make some good old-fashioned spaghetti.

  When she arrived home, the house was empty. Her father, she remembered, had job interviews all day with banks in Charleston’s city center. She assumed her mother was with her baby sister at the pool, since she was still too young for kindergarten.

  As Kira dug her fingers into the tomatoes she had just sliced, she thought about her family. When Kira was born, her parents had been twenty-three, which seemed just old enough to have a child. And when her sister was born, they had been thirty-six, which seemed just young enough. Even now, Kira never really grasped who the mistake was—her or her sister. She remembered about five years ago when she got the news. She had just begun boarding school and was thirteen, a rather inopportune age to realize your parents were still sexually active enough to have a child. Those scars were erased as soon as Kira held her little sister in her arms and looked into her bright green eyes, ones that lacked the yellow center but were filled with warmth. Even now, she couldn't wait for her mother to come home so she could play with Chloe, who always liked helping her in the kitchen (as much as a four-year-old could).

  With the sauce finished, Kira turned to the pasta, stirring the batter while she relived her first day. One of the amazing things about cooking was the therapy it provided. She could think about Luke, who at first glance she had figured to be the overly cocky yet oddly lovable boy. But there was something else there too. When he looked at her, it was almost like he saw something she didn't understand and maybe didn’t want to know. In a way, she was reminded of Cy, her ex-boyfriend in New York. They had only dated for a few months—it wasn’t love or anything, just fun for both of them. He had the same look as Luke, with bright blond hair that looked resolutely sun bleached. He had been overprotective of her, something that got old quickly. When she turned sixteen, he appeared out of nowhere and took over her life. While the constant calling to check in was cute at first, Kira had grown more and more frustrated. Moving home was the perfect excuse to dump him. Luke seemed more laid back, but there were traces of protection in his wannabe-knight manner. Could she see herself dating him?

  Kira considered it, pondered the idea of a crush, but her mind slowly wandered from his familiar eyes to the icy blue ones belonging to Tristan.

  Her hands stopped mixing at the thought of him. He was too much of a distraction, even for cooking. His brooding eyes held pain and love, his dimples added a cute boyish factor, and his hair hung just low enough to make her want to run a hand through it. She could tell just by looking at him that he had put up barriers and was full of secrets—ones that Kira would love to unmask. He was the kind of boy you wanted to comfort and to kiss, the kind you knew would break your heart yet hoped against all odds wouldn't. The bad boy with a soft heart, the sort of trap a girl knowingly jumped into.

  Stop it, Kira told herself and began kneading the dough to get out her frustration. They had barely said two words to each other, not nearly enough to begin crushing; especially when all she knew about him was that the one person she hoped to call a friend hated him.

  "Kira, Kira!"

  She was shocked out of her thoughts by the four-year-old now attached to her leg. Kira looked at the dough. She had kneaded it far more than necessary and more than enough to let her sister play with the now soft putty.

  "Want to help me make dinner?" She asked, lifting Chloe onto the marble countertop next to the sink.

  Her mother came in seconds later and kissed her on the cheek. "How was your first day?"

  "Oh, fine."

  Her mother sank a little—clearly, she wanted more details. "Any friends yet? Any guys? Now that you're home I’d hope to get some more information out of you."

  "Well, there was this one guy," Kira began telling her mom about Luke and how he had saved her. She could tell her mother was enjoying the teenage gossip she had missed out on while Kira had been up north, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak about Tristan. For now, he would be her secret.

  Damn you, she thought. If you’re causing me this much trouble now I can only imagine what will happen if we ever have an entire conversation.

  Chapter Two