Playing with Fire

by Sherry D. Ficklin

  I can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s trying to look out for me, not something to be taken lightly, especially when you are the new kid and therefore the social outcast by default. So I give a gentle nod and munch my pizza. Reid leans back over and cuts off my view of Oliver’s table.

  “So what is there to do around here for fun? Clubbing baby seals? Sketchy college raves? Ooh, what about the ever-classic underground hobo fights?” I ask.

  “Well, if you’d like, we could take you down to the Circle tonight,” Reid offers, then he pauses and gestures to Derek. “We’re all going. We could show you around the boardwalk and stuff, if you’re interested.”

  I glance over at Derek and Kayla, but they’re busy. Each has inserted a speaker bud in one ear and begun playing some game on Kayla’s phone that requires vigorous shaking and laughing.

  “I’d like to, but I still have to unpack and stuff.” I frown. A night out sounds really good, but did I dare ask Dad to go out on a school night? So soon?

  Besides, I’ve actually been looking forward to unpacking, then snuggling up with a book, but I can’t stay inside hiding out forever. Why not give it a go? a small voice inside me whispers. It’s the before voice. The one I used to listen to. Since Mom died, I’d mostly listened to my after voice. The one that said, Stay in. Hide out. Be safe.

  I sit up straight, squaring my shoulders. “How ‘bout Friday night?” I offer, stuffing the last bite of pizza in my mouth.

  Reid’s head snaps up, his eyes searching my face for a moment before answering. “Sure. Friday then,” he says smoothly, a goofy grin on his square face.

  Kayla nudges Derek and packs away her phone just as the first bell rings.

  “Nice to meet you, Farris. See you around, Reid,” Derek offers with a grand bow before putting his arm around Kayla and walking away.

  She gives me a wave as they march their way past a group of kids sitting by the doors, who gawk after the duo. I have to admit, as a couple, they are stare worthy.

  “You know, my parents are in your dad’s squadron,” Reid says as he dumps his tray in the trash, stacking it in the tray-return window.

  “Both of them?” I ask, surprised.

  It’s rare for a kid to have both parents in the service, much more rare to have them in the same squadron. Actually, it’s kind of a big no-no as I understand.

  He nods. “They’re two of the best pilots in the fleet, so they both got selected for the JSF.”

  The Joint Strike Fighter was the newest addition to the Marine Corps Air Wing. VMX 195 would be the first fully operational Joint Strike Fighter squadron in the military. My dad was sent here to oversee the squadron and its operations. It’s kind of a big deal, at least to him.

  “That’s cool,” is what I say, but that’s terrifying is the thought running through my head.

  Every military brat knows the risk of losing a parent in the line of duty is high, especially now, but to have both parents in the line of fire is truly a frightening thought. Of course, with my mom gone, I suppose I am sort of in the same boat. If I lost Dad, I’d be all alone. I quickly push the thought away.

  “They must be gone a lot. Where do you get shipped off to?” I ask, mildly curious.

  He frowns. “Technically, I’m supposed to be with my uncle in Cleveland, but they don’t like to pull me out of school—especially for the stupid two-week training detachments and stuff. So I usually just stay here.”

  “Alone?” I can’t keep the envy from my voice. “Lucky.”

  He grins. “I can take care of myself. I mean, even when they are here, they’re too busy to really be here, you know?”

  The sad thing is, I do understand. This year is going to be that way for me, too. Dad will be working all hours and gone on all the detachments.

  “Maybe I can hammer out a similar arrangement with my dad. Anything beats staying at my aunt’s old-folks’ home.”

  “And we could keep each other company,” he offers with a grin. “We could alternate throwing raging parties and hosting underground hobo fights.”

  I frown. “Somehow, I think I would have to agree to one of those ankle monitors parolees get. My dad is a tad overprotective.”

  “Good. That means he cares.”

  “Yeah, it’s great until he takes away my shoelaces and makes me start using those little safety scissors.”

  Reid laughs, leading the way through the maze of people rushing through the doors and back into the hallway. The first bell rings, causing a chorus of slamming lockers and rushed goodbyes as everyone heads back to class. I pull out the wrinkled map and schedule from my pocket, staring at the complicated maze of stairs and rooms, searching for my next class.

  “Here.” Reid holds out his hand for the schedule.

  I hand it over. He quickly scans it before pointing to the nearest stairwell.

  “Up the stairs, third door on the left. Or you could just walk with me. That’s my next class, too.”

  He sounds happy about that. I have to admit, I’m kind of happy about it, too. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to. We stop at the bottom of the stairs so I can grab a drink at the water fountain when Oliver and his lemmings come up behind us.

  “Hey, new girl, you finding your way around all right?” Oliver asks, his tone playful.

  I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and turn to see Reid standing still as a statue between the herd of guys and me. Oliver straightens up as I turn; apparently, he’d been leaning over me. None of Oliver’s group seems aggressive or bullish, but they are defiantly… imposing. Plus, I still don’t like the way Reid reacts to them. He’s so tense he’s practically vibrating.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just heading to chemistry with my new friend, Reid,” I answer, plastering a smile on my face.

  The boys look back at Reid as if noticing him for the first time. He keeps his head up, knees locked. Oliver’s smile falters for just a second as he looks at the skinny boy. “Hey, sorry about earlier.”

  He sounds sincere enough, but Reid ignores him, making me wonder if it’s all just a show for my benefit. Finally, he turns his attention back to me.

  “Chem is my next class, too. You guys mind if I walk with you?”

  Without waiting for a response, he grabs my backpack from my hands and tosses the football he’s been carrying to one of his buddies as he takes the first step up the stairs. I reach over, meaning to put my hand on Reid’s shoulder to make sure he is all right, but before I can touch him, he mutters a “see you later” and bolts up the stairs in front of us. I stand there, unsure what to do. He’s obviously skittish around Oliver, and some nagging, nosy part of me wants to know why.

  Oliver smiles sheepishly. “Relax, new girl, I don’t bite. I just wanted a chance to get to know you a little better. He kind of monopolized you at lunch.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but no words come out. For the second time in one day, he has me all twisted up in the head. Finally, I figure there’s only one way to know for sure, and that’s to get to know him. Cautiously.

  I drop in beside him, and we walk to class together. I’m overly careful not to graze his arm with my own as we move.

  He runs his fingers through his hair, looking a little nervous as we approach the door. Stopping short, he looks at me. “I was just wondering if you’re busy tonight. Maybe I could take you to a movie or something?”

  His eyes are sky-blue, I notice, and hopeful, stunningly so. For a second, I forget how to talk. What the actual fuck is wrong with me today?

  “I actually have to unpack tonight. Our house is still all boxed up, so—”

  He doesn’t even let me finish. “Perfect. I’ll come by at about five. We can hang out and I’ll help you unpack. Do you like Chinese?”

  My brain sputters like a car backfiring. What is he thinking? My back stiffens. I’m about to tell him no when something stops me. It’s the dimple that finally does me in. I never thought I’d find myself quite so…I don’t even know if I’m intrigued or jus
t stupefied. But that dimple is magical. It clearly has the ability to make smart girls do stupid things.

  Besides, I tell myself, the idea has merit. If he tries anything, I can slap a jerk label on him and send him packing. If not, well, that has possibilities, too.

  I shake my head. “Yeah. Sure. I guess.”

  “Great. I’ll bring the takeout.”

  “And I’ll bring the pepper spray, so don’t even think of trying anything,” I add quickly.

  Bowing his head, he hands me my bag. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  He gives me a quick wave as he takes off for his seat at the back of the room. I shake my head again, as if to clear away the last of the shock. I’ll give Oliver this much, he’s certainly unexpected.

  Navigating the rows of desks, I slide into an empty seat beside Reid, who slumps forward, one arm folded under his chin, doodling on the cover of his notebook.

  “Hey, I thought you were going to walk me to class?” I ask playfully, trying to break the tension.

  The bell rings.

  “It looked like you had a better offer,” he whispers, shooting a dirty look over his shoulder to where Oliver sits.

  I sit back, unsure what to say, but my curiosity grows by the minute.

  Must be a testosterone thing.

  Two more classes and the day is finally over. A few people initiate the usual curious-about-the-new-kid conversations. You know, where are you from, what bases have you lived at, what brings you here, the old standby stuff people ask when they want to be polite but don’t really want to get to know you. I try to be gracious, I really do, but all I want to do is stab myself in the eye with a fork.

  I used to be a people person, I really did.

  Once upon a time in another life.

  I walk to my car, my bag heavy with the new textbooks I’ve been assigned. To my surprise, Reid is waiting for me. He hadn’t spoken a word during chemistry and vanished as soon as the bell rang. I didn’t see him the rest of the day, but I’m glad he’s here.

  He leans against my passenger door, his glasses reflecting the late-day sun.

  “Hey,” I say gently.

  “Hey. Look, I want to apologize for earlier. It’s just that Oliver and I, well, we don’t really get along.”

  I snicker. “Noticed. I assume there’s a story behind that.”

  He looks away. “Yeah, but if it’s all the same, I don’t really want to tell it. Let’s just say we were friends once, and then we weren’t. No one can push your buttons like people you used to be close to.”

  I nod, knowing that all too well. Being close to someone is basically like handing them a knife and turning your back. Eventually, they will stab you in it.

  “I get that.” I bite my bottom lip. “And it’s clearly none of my business.”

  He looks back at me and smiles. “Cool.”

  A weaker girl would have meddled. But I resist. Barely.

  “Do you need a ride home or something?” I ask, scanning the parking lot. I don’t want to be rude, but he’s still leaning on my car.

  He stands up and takes a step back, pointing to a baby-blue scooter. “Nah, see that sleek man-machine? That’s me.”

  I choke back a giggle. “Ah, yes. It’s very manly,” I joke, hoping he isn’t the kind of guy who gets super sensitive about his ride.

  “It’s okay, you can laugh. I’m saving up for a Ninja, so…”

  “That’s funny, I’m saving up for a pirate,” I retort.

  He snickers. “Cute and quick with the lame jokes, we might just have to be friends, Farris.”

  I hold up a finger. “On one condition. Tell me how you feel about Captain Jack Harkness.”

  He puckers his lips, looking very serious. “He makes me question my own sexuality.”

  I smile. Oh yes, we’re going to be great friends. We might even need some kind of secret handshake.

  “And as for the scooter, I needed something to get me around town once I had my license. With my parents’ schedules, I used to have to walk to my karate classes. At least now I can ride in semi-comical style.”

  “Karate class? For real?”

  He shrugs. “I was a hyper kid; the parents thought it might help me channel some energy.”

  “Yeah, nothing says calm down like learning to face-kick people.” I pause. “Don’t you find it a tad ironic that you want to drive a Ninja to karate class?”

  “Oh my God.” He laughs. “I’d never thought of it like that. Yes, I guess it is.”

  As we are talking, a girl approaches. She’s one of the blondes that sat with us at lunch, but they look so similar I have a hard time remembering her name. Bethany? Stephanie? Luckily, Reid turns.

  “Hey, Cassy.”

  “Hey Reid, um…” She looks at me, snapping her fingers like she’s trying to remember my name too. Good. I don’t feel bad anymore.

  “Farris,” I help her out.

  “Right.” She looks back at Reid. “So, can I talk to you for a sec?”

  Not wanting to get in the way of Reid and his fan club, I give him a wave and toss my bag across the seat before sliding in and bringing Lucy roaring to life. I watch as they walk away. She throws her arms around his neck in a flirty hug before bouncing off, leaving him to mount his scooter.

  As I pull out of the student lot, I catch sight of Oliver sprinting across the football field with the other jocks in uniform. I have to admit, it’s kind of hot. Must be some primal part of my brain recognizing the potential hunter-gatherer alpha-male thing. I shake my head at the thought. That Psych class is really going to mess with me, I can tell.

  As it turns out, the hardest part of my day is finding my house.

  Every corner looks the same; there are no landmarks and all the streets are named after lame things like flowers or fruit. It takes me half an hour of wandering around the base to get home. When I get inside, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and pull it out. It’s a text from Dad.

  Hey, kid. Gonna be here a little later than I thought. Unpack what you can without me, but leave the heavy stuff. I’ll try to get out of here around seven. I’ll get myself some food at the chow hall so go ahead and eat without me. See you later. D.

  Dinner. It’s only four o’clock, but I’m ravenous from missing lunch. I stand at the counter, balancing on one foot and debating whether to pop in a pizza or just grab a snack.

  I can’t help but wonder if my mysterious football player will actually show. Come to think of it, I never told him where I lived. I smack myself on the forehead. It was so me to meet a cute guy, make plans, and then forget to tell him where to meet me or give him my number. I take out a small bag of trail mix and settle in at the kitchen table to do my homework.

  The next time I look up, the microwave is blinking 4:50 and I realize I’m still hungry. Doubtful there is any way Oliver is going to locate me in this tangled mess of base housing, I decide it’s time to eat.

  I’ve just begun foraging for something when my doorbell rings. The tone is just unfamiliar enough that it throws me for a second. I glance out the window and standing there, on my porch, is Oliver. He’s in a fresh black-collared shirt and jeans, holding a bag from a place called Chopstix. I smooth my hair and T-shirt, then open the door. His smile is part boyish and sweet, part rugged and mysterious.

  The perfect combination for getting me into trouble.

  “Hi!” I say, still surprised. “I didn’t think you’d be able to find me.” I open the door and he steps in, handing me the white plastic sack.

  “Well, I’m full of surprises.” He winks and walks past me into the kitchen, stepping over boxes and mounds of paper as he goes.

  That is an understatement.

  He hops onto the counter. “Plus, it’s a small base. Not hard to find the only ‘67 Shelby in a hundred miles.” He waves his hand around. “I thought your dad was an officer. How come you guys landed in enlisted housing?”

  Setting the bag beside him, I pull out the takeout boxes, inspecting each one.
I can tell by the smell that the first one is Kung Pao Chicken, and therefore mine. As soon as I open it, my stomach clenches with hunger.

  “They’re backlogged with the construction. It’s not so bad here, though. Except for the one-bathroom thing.” I frown, pluck some chopsticks out of the bag, and hop up beside him, handing him the other box of food. I’m not sure, but it smells like Moo shu pork.

  “Thanks,” he says, taking it without complaint. “Yeah, I don’t get the bathroom thing. Why do girls need their own bathrooms, anyway? Do you do some super-secret lady stuff in there?” He rolls his chopsticks together, and then maneuvers them expertly into his hand, taking a big mouthful.

  “Yeah. Top secret. I can’t even hint at it or I’ll have my chick license revoked. That and I hate smelling like my dad’s Old Spice body wash after I shower.” I shudder in mock horror.

  He leans over to me and takes a long whiff.

  No lie.

  He sniffs me.

  “You smell pretty good to me.”

  I blush before I can stop myself, the heat licking up my neck and face. Down girl, I scold myself. This is so not the way after Farris behaved. After Farris is made of sterner stuff.

  I roll my eyes and take a bite, trying to regain my cool. The food is really good. Spicy, but not my-friggin’-mouth-is-on-fire hot.

  “Thanks for dinner. No offense, but why do you want to spend your evening helping me unpack?” I ask after I swallow and take a sip of soda. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

  Everything about his behavior has my suspicious side on full alert, but his voice and body language put me at ease. He has the charisma of a southern gentleman, with eyes that practically dance with mischief.

  He takes a breath, sticking his chopsticks in the box. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m trying to figure you out, I suppose.”

  I feel myself make a face. “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs. “I dunno. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone stand up for a stranger the way you did today. It’s odd…”