Fire Girl Part 1 (14 page)

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Grace searched my face. “And you’re afraid,
too. What are you afraid of?”

The truth in her statement floored me. I
laughed, again, to cover my discomfort. “What did you call me that
day, Ms. Psychologist? I think you’ve just won yourself the
title.”

She sucked in a breath. “What?”

I pulled my hand back. “My aunt is at my
grandparent’s house right now. She is my legal guardian. She wants
to take me back to a hospital to be evaluated like some lab
rat.”

Grace frowned. “That sucks.”

Unexpectedly, I laughed.

“I wish I could be like you.”

I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous.” If she
really knew.

Grace looked away. “Oh, but I do.”

It was one of those awkward moments. “You
want to get thrown back into a hospital with freaks and have people
want to talk, talk, talk to help figure out what’s wrong with
you?”

Grace shifted her head slowly from side to
side. “No. I want to run. You’ve been planning to do that the whole
time, right?”

My heart stopped for a full moment. How did
she—

She laughed and it ended with her
trembling.

I searched for the right words.

Grace took a breath. “But you haven’t, and
that’s hard. Doing the hard thing is good.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand.”

Grace’s face turned another shade of pale.
“You better get me back.”

When I pulled up to Grace’s house I wanted to
immediately turn around.

Zac stood in the driveway.

I killed the engine.

He pointed at me and rushed toward us. He
wore red Sugar Valley sweats and a white t-shirt. “You are
insane!”

He lifted Grace off the four-wheeler and
gently put her into her chair.

“I’m fine.” Grace’s voice sounded soft, but
determined.

Zac averted his eyes to me, the anger
smoldering like lava. “We’ll see.”

“It was my fault.” Grace pleaded with
him.

Zac inspected her in doctor-like manner. He
paused at her pale face. “Grace, you shouldn’t wear yourself out
like this. It’s not good for you.”

“Is she okay?” My voice faltered. She looked
completely washed out, her eyes had already closed.

Zac swiveled back. “No.”

“It’s not her fault, Zac.” Grace’s voice was
soft.

He clutched a hand into a fist. “Just stay
away—”

“It
is
my fault. I talked her into
coming on a ride with me. . . .”

He took one giant step and landed right
beside me. He pushed his face into mine. “Don’t pretend like you
care. Stay away.”

I kept my eyes locked with his.

“I had fun, Maddie.” Grace called out.

Zac rushed back to her, took the back of her
chair, and started for the house.

My heart raced. “Me too.”

“The
disrupter
strikes again.” Mr.
Harris emerged from the makeshift tree house. “I see you’re good at
causing explosions.”

Chapter 12 The Truth

The smoke choked me. I couldn’t see.

“Help!”

I tried to turn around, but the vines
thickened against my wrists.

“Help!”

He emerged, half of his face in flames the
other half solemn. “You did this.
You
did this.”

I struggled to get out of the vines.

He threw back his head and laughed. The fire
raged hotter. “You’ll pay! You will!”

“Maddie!”

Chance.

I opened my eyes.

“Are you all right?”

Sticky sweat soaked my hair. I pulled a
blanket up to my chin. “Get out!”

Chance’s brow furrowed. “Grandpa sent me down
to tell you to get up for church.”

I tried to get his face out of my mind. “I’m
not going to church.”

Chance drummed his fingers against the door
jam. “I heard Sylvie came by last night.”

I sat up. She had been gone by the time I’d
gotten home.

Chance lifted his chin. “Was it weird to see
her?”

“What do you mean?”

Chance dropped his hand from the door. He
hesitated. “Never mind.”

I threw the covers back.

Chance shielded his eyes.

I wore a t-shirt and pajama pants. “Get over
it. What are you talking about?”

Chance rubbed a hand over his face. “Well,
Grandpa said she wanted to help you by sticking you back in that
hospital, but—it didn’t help you.”

I pushed the hair off my neck. “That’s what
he said?”

Chance nodded.

I knew it.

Chance lifted his hands. “But Grandpa told
her you would be eighteen soon, anyway. And you didn’t need a
Looney bin.”

I didn’t believe Chance. “What do I need?
What does he think I need?”

Chance smiled. “Grandpa said the best thing
to reform you is hard work.”

I snorted. “Yeah.”

“And us.” Chance narrowed his eyes. “And the
people that love you.”

I looked away. Emotion burned behind my
eyes.

“He said that too.” Chance started up the
stairs. “Just go to church. Why do you have to fight everything,
Madds? Make them happy.” He paused. “Oh yeah. Your friend Carrie
called me last night.”

I went to the bottom step. “What?”

“She said something about it being urgent to
talk to you, that you would know what she needed.”

My heart pounded into my rib cage—hard and
painful. I knew she hated to be ignored. I put my hand over my
chest. “Right. Did she say anything else?”

Chance kept moving up the stairs. “Not
really, she’s kinda—intense.”

“What did she say?”

Chance scratched his head. “She said she
looked up pictures of the team online and she said she likes
uniforms.” He opened the back door. “I told her you would
call.”

She knew his number. She called him. She told
him she liked uniforms?

“See ya at church, Madds.” Chance left.

I grabbed my cell off the nightstand and
punched in her number.

“It’s about freakin’ time.”

“H-hey.”

She paused and I knew she’d be assessing if
she should forgive me or not. “Yeah. Your cousin told me. He sounds
cute by the way.”

“How’d you get his number?”

She laughed, well, more of a cackle than a
laugh.

“He’s
not
your type.”

“Of course he’s not my type. I have a
man.”

I thought of Jimmy’s black hair and his brown
eyes—eyes that always looked me up and down every time he saw me. I
shivered. “Yeah.”

“Well, look who’s evasive.”

I let out a quick, soft breath. “I’m not
evasive.”

“Yeah, you are.” Carrie exhaled loudly.
“Jimmy’s getting anxious. The cops are on us. I swear everywhere we
go there’s a cop around the corner. You would think they knew
something.”

A nervous ache went through my gut.
“Yeah.”

“But they don’t. They totally don’t and it
drives them
crazy
.” She let out another cackle.

I cut her off. “Look, I have to hang out here
for a couple more weeks.”

“What are you saying?”

“I need some time. My grandpa can’t work and
they need me.”

“We don’t have time.”

“I don’t have a choice—”

“Don’t even, Madds. Jimmy did this for
you.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Madds?”

“He didn’t do it for me.”

Carrie did a soft laugh. “We watched that
pouty stare of yours for like six months. Didn’t you think we would
notice? Jimmy googled it. And anyways he deserved it. He totally
did.”

My pulse accelerated. “You never told
me.”

Carrie clicked her tongue. “We didn’t see the
reason to share every teeny, tiny detail, okay? Plus, you kept the
secret when you were in there.”

My mouth went completely dry.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean, what if someone finds
out?”

Carrie let out a tortured sigh. “Madds, if
someone finds out we’re dead. All of us.”

I didn’t know why, when the therapist had
been trying to pry the truth out of me, I hadn't felt bad. At
all.

But now . . .

“C’mon Madds, don’t go crazy on me.
Listen—seriously, I miss you so much. Jimmy’s connection in
California says he can get us jobs waitressing right on the beach.
Can you believe it?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. A throb pounded
behind my left eye. A new life. Of course. It would be the best
thing. “That’s cool.”

“It’ll be great.”

He deserved it. He did.

“Madds!”

“I’m here.”

“Man, you need like Ritalin or something. You
need an attention span.”

“Sorry.”

She let out another exaggerated sigh.

I gulped. For some reason Grace’s face popped
into my mind. “Can you just buy me some time? I have some things I
have to work out. Two weeks.”

“I’ll try, but you know how Jimmy—”

“Great.” I cut her off. “Thank you, miss you
lots, gotta go.” I hung up.

I sat there. I actually hadn’t realized how
much I didn’t miss her. Not really. It was more of a relief to be
away from all of it. From them. I moved to my closet and snatched a
dress off the hanger. Trepidation trickled through me like a quiet,
cold song. Grr. I had to find out how Grace was doing.

That meant going to church.

***

We walked in as the opening song began.
Grandpa had grumbled about being late, but Grandma promised we’d be
extra early next week.

There would be no next week for me. I knew
that. Jimmy wouldn’t wait. I didn't know how I would tell Chance I
had to leave, that I couldn't stay and help on the farm. I pushed
that away. I couldn't think about it right now. I searched for
Grace we filed into a row.

My eye caught a man up front. I recognized
him as the bishop. I vaguely remembered shaking hands with him the
day of the funeral.

He nodded to me.

I looked away and settled into the bench.

Someone I didn’t recognize moved to the
podium. “Dear Father in Heaven . . .”

Those words. A quiet, warm peace filled the
center of my chest. I took in a slow breath. I hadn’t heard a
prayer spoken from the podium since that day. I followed Grandma’s
lead and closed my eyes and bowed my head.

“Psst.”

I didn’t think anyone could be pssting
me.

A stab of pain went through the fleshy part
of my bicep.

I jolted my head out of prayer position.

Trina.

She put a finger over pink, glossed lips and
glanced at me sideways.

She came to church? The prayer completely
muted into the background.

I hardly recognized her. Pink blush and pink
eye shadow. She wore a white dress that flowed from neck to wrist
and clear down to her ankles. The cotton puffs made me think of
Anne of Green Gables. I covered my mouth and had to bite into the
side of my lip to prevent myself from erupting into a howl of
laughter.

Trina’s Barbie lips tipped down.

“We want to welcome all those here today that
are visiting . . .”

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned over. “Have
you seen Gilbert Blythe today?”

Apparently, she got my joke. She shoved her
elbow into my jaw.

I grabbed at the wound, unaffected by the
pain because of the hysterical joy that took hold of my stomach
muscles.

Grandma nudged me. “Shh.”

I stared up at the bishop all too aware of
Trina Barbie beside me. I tried to straighten out my smile.

“I want to tell you a story today. A story
about change.”

The bishop’s eyes seared into mine. Another
movie moment, the kind when the audience knew the next part had to
be important.

“I find it interesting that stories change
us.”

Warm and cold chills rushed through me.

“And what interests me even more is that
Jesus spoke to us in stories—in parables. You see he knew that if
he told people—be good, be kind, forgive others, help others—it
wouldn’t change them. So he said, “A certain man went down from
Jerusalem to Jerico, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of
his raiment and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.
And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when
he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite,
when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on
the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came
where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him. And
went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine and
set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn and took care
of him. And on the morrow when he departed he took out two pence
and gave them to the host and said unto him, Take care of him: and
whatsoever though spendest more, when I come again, I will repay
thee. Which now of these three, thinkest thou was neighbor unto him
that fell among the thieves? And he said, he that shewed mercy on
him.”

Warmth penetrated my heart.

“Christ knew when he told that story that we
would want to be like the Samaritan. Don’t you want to be the one
to help the man, comfort the man, pay for whatever he needs? I
do.”

I didn’t know why the back of my eyes burned.
I didn’t care.

“The atonement can heal us, forgive us, free
us. Helping others is the way to be happier in this life.”

I thought of the way the judge looked when
he’d asked me if I knew anything else that would help the
victim.

I thought of the flames—and how I’d run.

Sharp pain stabbed into me.

Trina.

I elbowed her back.

Trina frowned. “You look guilty.”

I coughed. I thought of Carrie’s words—he
deserved it. I thought of the way the bottle sounded as it cracked
against the house. Then I thought of my parents.

He did deserve it. He deserved it all.

Some things were done. And there was no
coming back.

Ever.

I had to leave, get out of this stupid
church. I scanned for the exits from the small chapel.