The Fireproof Girl

by Loretta Lost

  So think, Cole.

  Scarlett is frighteningly beautiful here in the night. But how can I let myself get swept away in her beauty now, when there is a chance she could throw it all away? I take a deep breath to collect my scattered thoughts, and try to find a way to communicate clearly. “I know how this works,” I say, and my voice grows more confident with each word, even if I’m not exactly sure what I’m saying yet. “You change the subject now, and I think things are fine, and one day I find you with your wrists slit in a bathtub. No. Do you hear me, Scar? Absolutely not.”

  She sits up, looking a little baffled as she wraps her arms around her middle.

  “I’m not going to let you sabotage us,” I tell her. “I’m not going to do something unforgiveable, so you can actually hate me. I don’t want you to ever put me in the same category with everyone else who has hurt you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she says in confusion.

  “I’m not going to get distracted from this. I’m not going to be a distraction. Please,” I tell her firmly, “please promise me that you’ll never think about suicide again.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Scar, I need you—to be here. I can’t lose another person. I need you to be my family. I need you to be my friend. You need me to be your brother. That’s what we both need right now.”

  She shakes her head slowly. “No. I’m only still here because I’m a coward. I keep deciding that I’ll give it one more day, to see if things change. They never do, but I keep trying and hoping anyway. I keep on living, out of sheer habit, when I’ve already decided that it’s not worthwhile. That makes me insane, doesn’t it?”

  “No. It makes you persistent. And wise. Because things are about to change.”

  “How do you know?”

  Determination pulses through me, causing me to rise to my feet. “Can’t you feel it? You’ve had so much bad luck in your life that things need to turn around, sooner or later. Why don’t we make it sooner? We can make it happen. I know that I can help, if I really try. I can take care of you the way a brother should.”

  “I’ve had so many brothers, Cole. I can’t remember all their names. You know how the foster system is. People come and people go—a revolving door of strangers. The best ones were those who never noticed me, and the worst ones were those who noticed me a little too well. Brothers are like mailmen; all I have to do is switch houses and I get a new one.”

  “That’s exactly why I need to show you that I can be different. You’re remarkable, Scar. You shouldn’t let assholes like your parents, or Mr. Brown, or Benjamin Powell make you lose the will to live. You shouldn’t ever let anyone make you feel like you are less than you are.”

  “It wasn’t just them,” she says softly, lifting her shoulders a little. “It’s just… everything.”

  “Then I’m going to change everything,” I tell her seriously. “Do you believe me? It doesn’t matter. I’m going to do it anyway. I’ll show you. Just say that you’ll let me.” I smile and lean down to take both of her hands. “Promise me that you’ll live. That’s all you need to do. Because nothing can get better if you don’t live.”

  “Cole,” she says, and her voice wavers. “Even if you manage to make things better temporarily, I’m going to lose you. You’re going to go off to college. Professor Brown will go back to using me as an ashtray, and I’ll get sick of it and end up on the streets again. Please—please, can we be realistic? We’re getting older and things will change. We’ll be separated.”

  “Not if I can take you to college with me. Not if I can become emancipated and live on my own as an adult, and gain access to my inheritance early. Maybe I could be your guardian.”

  Scarlett stares at me in puzzlement. “Emancipated?”

  “It’s something I’ve been thinking about. But if this doesn’t work, I’ll find another way. I’m not going to leave you behind. Just put your life in my hands,” I tell her as I squeeze hers for emphasis. “If it’s not safe in yours, you have to trust someone else. I will take care of you, and I am not a mailman.”

  “You’re crazy,” she says softly.

  I suddenly grin, tugging gently on her hands. “Come with me!”

  She follows with a skeptical look on her face until we have exited from underneath the bleachers and moved out into the open football field.

  “There’s your reason!” I say, pointing a finger into the endless expanse of darkened sky. “How can you look at all those billions of stars and not feel humbled? Every problem we face is so small and insignificant that it’s foolish to let it weigh us down. We are free, and we are perfect. We are part of something greater than ourselves, and something great is in each of us. We’re connected. It’s easy to forget that when you’ve mired in all the crap people have done to you. But you’re so much more than your past, and your pain. You need to rise above it all. You’re part of this, Scarlett. You’re part of eternity. That’s the truth.”

  “Cole, are you high?” Scarlett asks me, but she is smiling.

  “Yes. Isn’t it crazy, when you really think about it?” I stare up into the sky until I get chills running through my body. “It’s easy to forget when you’ve got your nose stuck in a book or a computer all day, but we are organic, spiritual beings. You’re not an orphan, because there is no such thing as an orphan. Two people don’t create a life. Your parents were just a vehicle for your existence. They were part of a long line of ancestry—thousands of human beings who met by random coincidence, and had children for any number of strange reasons, or by pure accident—all culminating in the person that is you. You’re a child of nature. We all are. And it’s just amazing and mind-blowing, everything that has led to us standing right here, right now.”

  Scarlett does not respond, but she simply stares at me. I cannot read the expression on her face. I feel suddenly very embarrassed, because here I am, rambling on like an idiot. The excitement and energy rushing through me is overpowering, and I’m not sure where it came from. I hope she’ll forgive my madness, and I hope she’ll feel that I’m right.

  “You’re too special to even consider ending your life,” I tell her firmly. “We’re made up of stuff that’s billions of years old. Stuff that’s grown and changed and been ripped apart and put back together in millions of different ways. What’s a year more? What’s four years more, until you’re eighteen and legally an adult? It’s all nothing. It’s an infinitesimal speck of time for your soul. You think you want to die, because it hurts, but you can handle so much more than you think you can.”

  I step forward and smile at her as she looks at me quizzically. I can see a little spark of interest in her eyes, and it encourages me to keep going. “Right here, right now? This is precious. This is life. You’re alive. Somehow, all of the genetic material of all those thousands of ancestors came together in the perfect combination to make you, exactly as you are. That’s magical—it’s the greatest kind of magic I know. Our very existence.”

  My fingers slide over her hair, which is blacker than the night. “I know that you’re suffering. That’s what life means. It means suffering to survive. And we have to keep doing it, because it’ll all be over in the blink of an eye, anyway. Even if you live eighty more years, or ninety more years, it’s nothing at all. It’s just this tiny bit of life you get to experience, before we return to dust, so why waste it? Suffer with me, and experience life with me, while we’re lucky enough to be here, together. We might never get another chance.”

  Scarlett shakes her head, and puts her hands up in surrender. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. For the time being, I will not speak of killing myself, and I’ll try to stop thinking of it as an option. Unless something goes horribly wrong, I’m going to try to tough it out.” She looks up at me, and a tiny smile touches her lips. “I promise that I will live, but just so you know: if it sucks, I’m blaming everything on you.”

  “I will happily take the blame,” I tell her, leaning forward to crush her against me in a zealous hug. �
��But if it’s great, you better blame me for that too.”

  She hugs me back tightly, resting her forehead against my shoulder. “How are you so strong? If I had lost what you’ve lost, I couldn’t be so strong.”

  My shoulders stiffen slightly, and my lips pull into a frown. But I glance back up at the sky and exhale. “It might be because of what I lost that I can be strong. I watched my parents get lowered six feet deep, and I know we’ll all be returning to dirt someday. When that day comes, we can’t feel any more pain. I don’t know about you, but I’m not in any rush to put myself in an early grave. I’m going to fight, and struggle, and treasure every moment of life I’ve got. I want to feel it—all the pain I can possibly feel. I’m going to make a mark on this world, and I’m going to do all I can while I’m here. You just watch and see, Scarlett.”

  “I will,” she says, pulling away slightly to look at me. Her eyes are hard, like she’s starting to believe me, and starting to focus on her own future.

  My heart soars. Is this really working? Have I really changed her mind? No. I need to spend every day changing her mind. Maybe I’ve lit a fire under her, but that fire will go out if I don’t keep feeding it. I need to be loyal, and good, unshakable and fierce.

  “Life is going to be great,” I say, giving her an earnest smile. “Life should be great. Why not? We can do anything. I have all these goals, and I can’t wait to really get started on achieving them. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting what I want. Nothing is going to stand in my way. No one can hurt me or bring me down. Never again.”

  Scarlett nods slowly, but I can see that she is still having doubts.

  “And no one,” I add softly, “is ever going to keep me away from you.”

  She looks up sharply, and her eyes flash with emotion. “I don’t get you, Cole. What do you really want?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, but her gaze is piercing. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you or something?”

  My eyes widen. “Are you? Hey. Because… I—I don’t mind.”

  “What if I don’t want you to be my brother?” she asks, stepping closer. “What if I want more than that from you?”

  God. She is so direct. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted to jump at the opportunity. Or jump her. I take a deep breath. “Right now, I think it’s all I can give safely.” My voice falters and I hesitate.

  Am I making a huge mistake? Will right now be the only chance we ever have to be together. Is this the only moment I will ever get to decide this? Am I about to waste years of my life keeping her at an arm’s length for stupid reasons? I speak the words I know I should speak, instead of the ones that are ready to springboard off my tongue:

  “I think it would be wrong to ask more of you, when you’re in such a vulnerable state.”

  “This is because I told you about Benjamin,” she says, lowering her eyes to her sneakers. “That’s why you think I can’t handle a relationship.”

  “No. It’s because we’re not established enough right now,” I tell her. “And you’re not emotionally healthy. From what I hear, rape isn’t something you get over easily. You ran away at age twelve? And you just turned fourteen? That’s not a lot of time to heal.”

  “You think I’m a child,” she responds stubbornly. “I’m only one year younger than you.”

  “Almost two years,” I correct, but then I grow sober. “Seriously, Scar. You might be smarter than me in a lot of ways, and more mature—but I need to be the adult here, and act in your best interests. I think I know best, in this particular way. I wish… things could be different. But just trust me, and be patient.”

  She glowers at me. “I suck at patience. If life is so short, and so precious, why should we waste any of it?”

  “I think we could end up wasting a lot more time if we do the wrong thing at the wrong moment. I think people have taken a lot from you, and I need to show you that someone can give, and not take.”

  “Fine,” she says. “I’ll accept this for right now. But what about someday?”

  “Someday, I’m hoping that you won’t need a big brother quite so much. Then, maybe… I can be something more.” I smile at her. “Let’s put a pin in it?”

  “A pin? What does that mean?” she frowns. “Like stick it up on a wall with a thumbtack and address it later?”

  “Kind of. But I think it actually comes from grenades. We need to keep a pin in it so that it doesn’t explode all over our lives.”

  “We’re going to need a really big pin, Cole.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You know, if you don’t like me, you can just say that.”

  “I like you, Scar. Trust me, I like you very, very much.” I grin at her madly, because she looks so damned cute when she’s annoyed. “How about this? Someday, when I think we’re both ready, we’ll come back here to discuss it. Then, if we’re both confident that we are strong enough, we’ll take the pin out of the grenade. Look, this goalpost right here, this will be our pin.”

  Moving over to the large goalpost, I get out my switchblade and begin to carve some letters in the paint. The paint is already fading and chipped in some places, and I wonder how long the letters will last.

  2003

  CS

  PIN

  “How’s that?” I ask her as I wipe my blade off on my jeans.

  “You’re crazy,” she says. “I bet you’re going to forget all about that in a few days.”

  But I don’t forget. Scarlett doesn’t know that I have a mind like a steel trap, and I’m already hatching my master plan. It starts with a letter. I’ll write her a letter tonight, as soon as she goes to bed. I already know the first two sentences. It will be the first letter I ever write her—but I doubt it will be the last. What I do hope, is that it will be the last letter of mine that she ever needs to read.

  The road ahead is going to be rough. I wonder if I can be half as strong as she’s going to need me to be? It doesn’t matter. I have no choice. I will dig deep inside myself and find a way. We could really help each other through all this. We could be the family that we both need so badly—the pillars of support that were ripped out from under us way too early. We could be everything to each other; everything that’s been missing for so long. We could be together.

  It’s hard not to imagine that day, in the distant future, when everything is finally safe. I can see it now, the older, better versions of ourselves and how happy and successful they will be. They will have everything. They will own the world.

  “Come on, Cole,” Scarlett says softly, grabbing my shirt and tugging me gently away from the goal post where I am staring at the letters. “We better go home. We have school in the morning.”

  Snapped out of my fantasy, I turn to her and nod.

  We begin walking through the wet grass in the direction of home. Our temporary home, until I can find us a better place. I can’t help glancing at her sideways. I know that her life has been wretched until now, but she is still so sweet and capable of love. I want to do everything I can to protect her and keep her safe. I want to be so amazing that I’m her first choice; so trustworthy and reliable and caring that she simply can’t imagine anyone else.

  I don’t want to be a reckless, bad decision. I don’t want to be a Band-Aid or a quick-fix, or a diversion. I don’t want to be a temporary source of recreation. I don’t want to be a reminder of a time in her life she can’t bear to remember. I don’t want to be used.

  I want to be her endgame. I want to be the only one.

  I don’t care how long it takes, and how many years I have to wait.

  And maybe when she’s finally ready, I will be too.

  “Vodka,” I tell the stewardess. “Two of them. And some whiskey, for my coffee.”

  She complies quickly, with a professional smile. I’m glad that we got business class seats for the complimentary drinks and quick service. The extra room is also helpful, although Zack’s laptop is taking up most of the sp
ace on my pull-down tray, and I am using his tray to store my liquor.

  “Whoa,” Zack says as he looks at the little airplane bottles judgmentally. “Don’t you think you should slow it down? I’ve never seen you drink so much.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything. Like finding out your brother was murdered.”

  “Sophie, I don’t think this is helping.” Zack reaches out to take the vodka bottles away while I pour the whiskey into my coffee, but I grab his wrist.

  “Don’t you dare touch my alcohol,” I tell him in a deathly whisper. “I am not in the mood for this right now.”

  He drops the bottles and lifts his hands in surrender. “Where are you even putting it all? You’re a tank, Soph. Like, do you even have working kidneys?”

  My bladder is decidedly full, but I am too focused on my task to pay attention to the screaming organ below my bellybutton. The security footage from the hospital was incomplete, and I was not able to see the person who shot Cole. I may have downloaded videos from the wrong timeframe, but there is nothing that I can do right now to access the feed—not without the internet. It is also possible, but unlikely, that someone might have altered the footage to protect the shooter. That would mean that either someone on Cole’s own security team did it—or someone hacked into my system.

  There’s no use worrying about that now, so I’ve been focusing my attention on other details.

  It has taken me a while to comb through the information on the laptop to get a good picture of the last few days and weeks of Cole’s life. All I know so far is that he was under a lot of pressure, with an impossible workload. He had doctor’s appointments woven into his schedule regularly, along with massages and sessions with a psychiatrist.