by Teagan Kade
I let my legs spread, blushing. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I think I’m hornier than he is right now.
I place my mouth beside his ear and whisper. “We can practice our knot-tying skills later, if you like.”
It’s hard to miss the growing bulge. It’s trying so hard to break free of his pants he’d probably take the bar with him if he decided to stand. “I do like. What next? Butt plugs and a spanking paddle?”
I shrug. “I’m open to… exploration.”
“Come here.”
He pulls me into another kiss, his hand running from my crotch up to my cleavage, my nipples already diamond hard.
Hernandez shakes his head. “I can get this syrupy sweet bullshit watching daytime TV. I’m hitting the john.” He stands and walks off to the bathroom.
“I’ll join you,” says Jackson, hopping off his stool.
“Why? You want to hold it for me?” laughs Hernandez.
Jackson smiles. “Sorry, friend. I left my tweezers back at the dorm.”
Between us, my hand is shifting higher and higher up Payton’s inner thigh, just barely brushing the outline of his dick.
He leans over. “Sure you don’t want to call it a night?”
My fingers loosely grip his cock through his jeans. “We’re celebrating, remember?”
“We are?”
I draw my hand away.
“Oh, come on,” he protests.
I wink. “Easy now. Good things come to those who wait.”
“Say it again,” I whisper.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Come.”
Over Payton’s shoulder I see the other half of our class cozied up in the corner booth, a few of them playing pool to the left.
Payton taps the bar again, placing more cash down. “We’ll take a bottle of champagne too, Lisa.”
The bartender jerks backwards, no doubt surprised as I am hearing her first name. She shrugs and takes Payton’s money. “I suppose you’ve bought yourself that privilege.”
Next to where Hernandez was sitting is Louis, one of the tallest in the class. He’s looking around the room, sniffing in the air.
“You alright?” Payton looks over and laughs. “If you were expecting potpourri, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
Louis continues to sniff. “You guys don’t smell that?”
“What’s that, hon?” asks the bartender.
Louis looks at her deadpan. “Smoke.”
I smell it too, Payton stiffening beside me.
Almost simultaneously we all look towards the door leading to the back room. Smoke is starting to wisp under the door.
Silence hangs at first… before all hell breaks loose.
Something shatters.
Someone screams.
Lisa is moving towards the door. “What the—”
“No!” Payton shouts as she reaches for the door handle, but it’s too late.
The door opens and the flames rush out with a whoosh, enough to force Lisa flat to the floor.
Payton jumps over the bar and picks her up, nodding at me towards the front door. “Get everyone out. Go!”
“Fire!” I yell, but it’s obvious what’s going on.
People crush towards the front door, another glass shattering.
“It’s locked!” someone screams.
Locked? The thought is pushed away as Payton lets Lisa down to her feet, pushing her low.
She has her hand over her mouth, the smoke growing thicker.
“Is there another way out?” asks Payton, blinking through the smoke. It’s getting thicker, flames stretching from the doorway.
Lisa shakes her head. “No damn windows in the whole place. There’s the back door, but…”
Payton looks to the door leading to the back, but the edges are alight, a glowing inferno beyond.
The smoke’s changing color. It’s everywhere, a rolling blanket of black on the roof.
There are civilians in here tonight, a full house. If we don’t find a way out, and soon, it’s going to be catastrophic.
I watch the fire start to peel and ripple across the roof. It’s out of control, spreading too fast to be contained.
You’ve trained for this. I get down low as I can and crawl with Payton and Lisa to the front door.
Sirens cut distinctly away in the distance, but there’s nothing to suggest they’re headed here.
My lungs revolt. I cough, suddenly noticing how coarse the sisal is underneath my hands.
What little light there is comes from the bar, from the flames. They cast a warm glow over the small confines of the room.
People are coughing, hacking.
Payton stands. “Everyone out of the way.”
The crowd parts miraculously at the sound of his voice.
He hits the door with the full force of his shoulder, but it won’t budge.
The smoke’s starting to get to me.
I cannot pull together my thoughts into any kind of coherence.
I’m squinting, my eyes stinging, crawling and scanning for anything, something to help us.
“Fuck!” yells Payton, ramming into the door again.
I spot it.
I stand and run to the side of the bar, a beam from the roof overhead crashing down in front of me, a wall of sparks gusting out.
“Lacey!” shouts Payton.
I make it to the wall and take hold of the extinguisher, pulling out the pin and hitting the trigger, but it’s empty.
Of course it is.
The smoke runs thicker now, washing away form and color. I struggle to see much of anything, bunching up my shirt and bringing it to my mouth, eyes watering above. I consider breathing it in, deep and fast, letting it take me before the fire does, before all that remains are dental records.
No. Not today.
I drop the extinguisher and take the fire axe beside it instead, jumping over the beam and tossing it through the air to Payton.
He catches it in one hand and tells everyone to stand back.
We all get low, coughing and panting, the smoke so thick now I can barely make Payton out as he pulls back and swings the axe into the door.
He hits it square, a chunk of it splintering off.
He swings again, the hole opening up. He reaches into the edges and pulls, but it’s not enough.
He shouts and drives the axe in over and over, cutting out a hole big enough to get his arm through.
Some of the other guys stand and help, pulling pieces of the door away, ripping it apart.
Finally, Payton is able to get his hand through and remove the obstruction. He drops the axe and stands back, kicking what’s left of the door. It swings open, dropping off a hinge, the smoke rushing out into the cold night air.
We all follow in single file, running out into the middle of the road bent over ourselves.
Payton comes up beside me, takes me around the shoulders. “You okay?”
I nod, coughing and pointing to my right. “Yeah, check on the others.”
I look at Dante’s. A second part of the roof collapses, a great cloud of smoke and flame rising into the sky, pops and crackles following.
Fire licks from the door we just left.
I see the Captain running over from the campus along with a couple of other staff members.
The first fire engine rounds the corner.
I look around and try to mark off faces in my head.
Jackson comes running in from the side. “Everyone okay?” he asks.
For a split-second I can’t work out why he’s coming from that direction, but this unusual fact is lost on me as a mighty explosion booms out from the back of the bar, the tanks going up in a giant fireball that climbs specter-like into the sky.
Lisa shakes her head beside me, coughing. “My god.”
We all stand there watching as the firefighters unload and charge the lines, but it’s clear there’s not a great deal that can be done. Dante’s is gone, and everything insi
de along with it.
Payton has his hands on his hips, breathing hard.
Jackson’s watching the flames with increasing wonder. “Will you look at that.”
“Much longer and…” starts Payton, his words trailing off.
“We’re okay,” I tell him, pressing myself into his side.
Another small explosion causes the ground to rumble under our feet, a second fire engine arriving, police, an ambulance, locals and campus students, some in PJs and dressing gowns.
“Why was the front door locked?” I ask, suddenly coming to the realization.
Payton shrugs. “I don’t know. Did you see the way that thing spread? Something doesn’t add up.”
“You think it was deliberate?” I ask.
He lifts his shoulders again. “I don’t know.” He nods towards Dante’s security guard, who’s walking over to the ambulance holding his head. “Maybe he has some insight.”
Louis stops in front of us, scanning around the road. “Hey, you guys seen Hernandez?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
PAYTON
We’re standing on the quad, the Captain flanked by two instructors who I recognize from orientation.
The Captain takes off his cap, his fingers raking through his hair. The campus flag is flying at half-mast today. It’s windy, unruly, the clouds dabbed grey.
The Captain looks up to the sky before speaking. “It’s a sad day here at Pemberton. You’ve lost a classmate. I’m sure many of you have lost a friend.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s a hell of a thing, but here you are.”
I look to Lacey beside me. Her eyes are bloodshot. Someone coughs down the line.
“There will be no classes today,” the Captain goes on. “I know many of you have spoken to the police and authorities, but I need you all to remain on campus in case they have any further questions.” He puts his hands behind his back. “Given the traumatic nature of this incident, the campus is offering free counselling for anyone who needs it. Simply head down to the admin office. Alternatively, my door is always open, any time.
“As I said, there are no classes today, but we will be continuing on with the curriculum tomorrow. I think you’ll all agree that’s what Hernandez would have wanted. Rest assured the authorities are working hard to determine the cause of the fire. Any news, you’ll be the first to know. Dismissed.”
No one goes running off. We all sort of stand there in a strange muddle.
I face Lace, keeping my voice low. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Who do you think did it?”
She looks around. “You’re sure it was deliberate?”
“They locked the damn door, the only way out. They knocked out the security guard. If that doesn’t spell ‘deliberate,’ I don’t know what does, not to mention the stink of kerosene out back before it went up. No, someone set that blaze alright. I’m certain of it.”
My eyes fall on Jackson. He’s simply standing there with a strange sort of smirk on his face. He sees me and the smile drops.
Lacey follows my line of sight. “Perhaps. He is creepy.”
“And he loves to play with that damn Zippo lighter.”
“You think we should say something?”
I shake my head slowly. “No. Not yet. Let the authorities do their job, see what comes up.”
Lacey looks back to the dorms. “Poor Hernandez.”
I nod in agreement. “It’s a real fucking shame—murder if you want to call it what it is.”
“What do you want to do now?” asks Lacey.
I draw her into my arms. “I want to be with you.”
*
We skip lunch to make slow, tender love, the midday sun turning the sheets below us warm. I don’t think either of us exactly feels like eating after what happened last night.
The police arrive and interview those of us who were there again. Afterwards, the Captain pulls me into his office.
He gestures to the single chair in the room. “Take a seat, Cox.”
I look around. There’s a desk, a single, framed photo on it, but that is it. The office is completely barren. “You don’t have a chair, Captain?”
“A chair?” he laughs. “Do I look like I have time to sit around like this is Club Med? As my father used to say, ‘Why sit when you can stand tall?’”
O-kay. Odd one, but I let it go. “Is this about Hernandez?”
The Captain takes off his cap, placing it on the desk and aligning it with the framed photo. “No, son. Hernandez is gone and there ain’t shit we can do about it. It’s in the hands of the police now.”
“But they could be a student.”
“If it was deliberate, ‘they’ could be anyone, even a group of people. Like I said, the police are handling it. I pulled you in here to show you this.”
He takes a file out of his drawer and slaps it down in front of me.
Whenever someone adds that kind of dramatic flair I know bad news is coming, but the Captain remains upbeat. “You don’t need to open it. It’s an assessment of your written grades and progress. The prognosis? Extremely goddamn good. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, Cox, hopefully hitting the books hard, but it’s paying off. You’re rising right to the top.”
I’ve been hitting something alright, but it’s not books. That isn’t entirely truthful, of course. The study time with Lacey has been productive, even if it always leads to the same, blissful thing…
The Captain smiles. “I know you and Nelson are an item, son. The whole campus knows, but we’re all adults here. Don’t let us catch you fucking on the quad and everything should be alright. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Captain,” I reply, struggling to keep the smirk off my face at the thought of having sex in the middle of the quad. Hell, the class could cheer us on. First to orgasm wins.
“Long story short,” continues the Captain. “You’re on a good thing here, Cox. Don’t screw it up.”
“I understand.”
I get up to leave. The Captain reaches into the drawer again and hands me a single sheet of paper. “By the way, take this. Show it around.”
I take the sheet. It’s a grainy color photo of a figure walking across the street opposite Dante’s. In it they’re wearing what looks like jeans, a Pemberton sweater, and a blue Atlanta Braves baseball cap.
“It’s someone the police would like to talk to,” says the Captain. “They want me to hand these out around campus, see if anyone recognizes the cap.”
I fold it in half and place it into my pocket. “I will.”
“Good. See you at chow.”
I take the photo out once I’m standing back in the hall, scrutinizing the photo, but given the angle of the camera it’s impossible to tell how tall or what kind of build the figure is. Everyone here has a grey sweater. It’s uniform, so that’s out. It all comes down to the cap, and I can’t think of a single person student I’ve seen wearing one.
I look closer. It could be Jackson, but it’s far from definitive.
I flick the picture. “I’m going to find you, you son of a bitch. I’m going to find you and I’m going to make you pay.”
*
The somber mood continues through to dinner. Only half the class shows up, Jackson amongst the absent.
I show the photo to Lacey, who’s busy pushing mashed potatoes around her plate. “Yeah, I saw it.”
“And?”
She shrugs. “It could be anyone.”
I point to the cap. “But this. Have you seen anyone wearing a cap like this around campus? The Braves aren’t exactly popular around here. Someone has to recognize it.”
“I’m sorry.”
I hold the photo with two hands staring at it, looking for something I know I won’t find.
They’re going to get away with it. They’re going to get away with murdering Hernandez.
“What did the Captain want?” asks Lacey.
“To tell me my written grades have improved, funnily enough.”
I look around before squeezing her ass. “And the reward.”
“You’re not a toddler,” she replies. “I don’t give you a lollipop at the end of each session.”
“No,” I laugh, “you give me something far sweeter than that.”
She looks up at me. “Did he say anything about… us, the Captain?”
I nod to my plate. “He did, but he said as long as we keep it on the down-low, it’s fine.”
“And you call going at it in the Tower stairwell keeping it on the down-low?”
“No, I call that hot as fuck, but he said, and I quote, ‘As long as you’re not out there screwing on the quad, you’ll be fine.’”
“Screwing on the quad?” laughs Lacey. “The gravel rash alone… But you would, wouldn’t you? You love that risky stuff.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining on the back seat of the bus.”
“That was different.”
“Just because no one said anything doesn’t mean they didn’t know what was going on.”
“Are you trying to turn me off right now?”
A sudden memory of the fire cuts through my head. I blink it away. “Sorry?”
Lacey puts her fork down. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Me neither,” I say. Time for another closet session then?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LACEY
I can hear Payton on the other side of the closet door. “Fifteen minutes and counting. I think we’re good.”
I slide the door open and come out, surprisingly level-headed, my breathing stable.
He’s smiling at me. “I think you’re ready, rock star.”
I nod back. “Yeah, I think I am.”
The morning session comes around faster than expected, but I’m well prepared for the Worm this time around.
In full gear, I approach the start of the tube.
The Captain stops me. “Now, Nelson, I have to be clear. If you don’t make it through today, it’s game over for your time here at Pemberton.”
“I understand, Captain.”
