TORCH (6 page)

Matt Huxley is in the pool office when I track him down.

“S’up?” he says, motioning to a chair. “You’re not scheduled for today.”

 He’s wearing the long surfer shorts that are outlawed in the pool area. The office is his domain, so I guess he can flout the dress code.

“I came to talk to you about joining swim team. Is it too late?”

“Not for you,” Hux says, grinning. “I’m stoked. Although you’re out of shape.”

I scowl at him. “I am not out of shape.”

“Well, I hear you’re not much of a dancer.”

“Oh my god,” I say. “Is Bianca really your type?”

“Bianca’s every guy’s type. Scientific fact.”

“That’s pathetic,” I say. “Anyway, I can train and still handle my guarding shifts.”

“You sure?” he says. “That’s taking a lot on. And you seem a little tense.”

He doesn’t even know me. How can he tell if I’m tense? “I’m fine.”

“Okay, then let’s chat about what happened the other day.” His eyes lose the surfer daze. “You clipped that guy. Kai Seaver.”

“Yeah, because of you. You were all, ‘
Let ME get that for you, Bianca
.’ And when you finally let go of the pole, the force swung it around.”

“So it was
my
fault.”

He’s still smiling, but it occurs to me that blaming my boss might not be the greatest idea. “It was an accident. That’s all I’m saying. And then I fixed it.”

“You got lucky,” Hux says. “That rescue was lame.”

“Lame! Are you kidding me?” I never used to talk back to my coaches, but Hux doesn’t exactly command respect.

“You didn’t follow rescue protocol. We could have reached him with the hook but you didn’t say a word. You just jumped in. Then you started rescue breathing when you know we have a mask on site. In other words, you took unnecessary risks.”

“I did what I felt I had to do in the moment. And it all worked out.”

“The rules are there for a reason,” he says. “You need to follow them.”

“Or what? You’ll fire me?”

He slouches so far down in his chair that his butt is practically off the seat. “See, this is your whole problem. You react emotionally instead of logically. A good lifeguard stays calm and cool.”

If I say one more word, I’ll prove he’s right that I’m emotional, so I stare at him silently instead.

“All I’m just saying is that you need to work a little harder on your technique,” Hux says. “Join my Rescue Master Class.”

“I’m already fully qualified as a lifeguard. I had a perfect score on my exam.”

“Theory is different from practice,” he says.

His patronizing tone irritates me. The fact that his “dude” voice comes and goes irritates me even more. He’s a fraud.

“Most lifeguards never get to make a real save,” I say. “On my very first shift I revived an unconscious victim. I think I put theory into practice pretty well.”

“Then you flaked,” he says. “You went into shock and you didn’t listen.”

Like it isn’t bad enough I nearly killed someone. To be raked over the coals by everyone for a mistake is pretty harsh. Worst of all, Hux is saying I’m hysterical, whereas I’ve always prided myself on being calm and focused. “You could go a little easier on me,” I say.

He shakes his head. “You don’t need easy. You need structure and discipline. I can help you with that.”

Anger flares in my chest. “How do you know what I need?”

His eyes meet mine and he smirks. “I know more than you think. And as your boss, I need to be confident you’ll keep your head and take direction.”

“Well, you’re not my boss, anymore.” Despite my best efforts, my voice spikes. “Because I quit.”

Hux pulls himself upright. “Don’t quit, get better. That’s how you handled swimming. Why not guarding?”

“Because guarding is just a job.”

“That’s not who you are,” he says. “What’s changed?”

He has some nerve telling me who I am when he’s only known me two weeks. And everyone in this town knows what changed in my life. “The smell of chlorine makes me sick, that’s what’s changed.”

Forget guarding. Forget swim team. I am done with water.

I
find Regan at her locker and drag her out the closest door to tell her about what happened with Hux. It’s only when we’re outside that I remember why Regan avoids this exit. We’re standing in the sheltered area between the old and new wings of the school, where the cool kids congregate. People like us incite ridicule just by inhaling their second hand smoke.

I can tell from Regan’s expression that she thinks I shouldn’t have quit. Money’s tight around our place since Dad took a pay cut. He lets me drive Nate’s Jeep, but I have to pay for gas, and my savings won’t hold out forever.

“There are other pools in Rosewood that’d be glad to have me,” I tell Regan. “Or maybe I’ll get a job in a store or something.”

Regan starts by saying all the right things, about how Hux is an idiot to let a skilled lifeguard like me go. But she changes her tune when it comes to the swim team. “Are you sure you want to give that up? It’s your passion.”

“It’s not, anymore. Really, Regan. I’m going to have to find that buzz from another sport. Maybe basketball?”

She laughs and I join in. The lack of coordination I demonstrated in the dance audition sort of applies generally.

“Do you think Bianca turned Hux against you?” Regan asks.

“Did I hear my name?”

Bianca is standing behind us. Although she’s shorter than Regan and me, she gives the impression of being taller. As much as I hate to admit it, she has presence. Narrowing her striking green eyes, Bianca takes a long drag on her cigarette and exhales in my direction. “Too bad you guys got passed over for dance club,” she says. “But you had to know you weren’t cut out for it.”

I stare at the cigarette in her hand. “Don’t you worry that smoking will shorten your dance career?”

She takes another drag. “I could die tomorrow and they wouldn’t call you two off the bench. Because you’re a klutz and she’s fat.”

Once again Regan is collateral damage in my battle with Bianca, and it pisses me off. “I’ll challenge you to a few laps in the pool any day.”

“Really?” Bianca says. “Because I hear you’ve been banned from the pool.”

My altercation with Hux is half an hour old; Regan must be right about their colluding.

“Phoenix didn’t get banned,” Regan says. “She quit.”

“After nearly killing someone.” Bianca drops her cigarette and grinds it into the pavement with the toe of a black suede boot. “Hux is nominating you for the Loser Lifeguard Hall of Fame.”

Noticing that a dozen people have tuned into the drama, I force a smile. “It’s an honor just to be nominated.”

Nate always told me to stand up to bullies from the start or it only gets worse. I’ve had to follow his advice a few times, knowing he was around to back me. Now, I’m on my own.

Bianca looks down and sees that the cigarette at her feet has relit. She presses it again with her boot, but as soon as she moves it reignites.

I stamp on the cigarette with a sneaker and it goes out with a trickle of smoke.

Bianca continues on her mission of harassment. “By the way, I hear your dad had to get a security job because his beer breath is a fire hazard. Even Chunky’s dad wouldn’t take a chance on him.”

The shot’s a direct hit and I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt. Bianca's dad is the chief of police, and if their family is gossiping about my dad having a drinking problem, he may have trouble getting hired on a fire department. I’m sure he’ll want to one day.

A flush surges up my chest, neck and then my face. It feels hot enough to blow back my hair.

Regan can see I’m too upset to retaliate and jumps in herself. “My dad offered Phoenix’s dad a job and he turned it down.”

Bianca opens her designer bag and pulls out a package of cigarettes. She makes a show of opening it slowly, selecting one, and holding it to her lips before taking her next shot. “Thank god, for that,” she says. “I’d hate to think my life depended on a drunk firefighter.” She turns to her posse. “How about you guys?” There’s a murmur of agreement. Satisfied, Bianca drops her cigarettes back into her purse and holds her lighter to the one in her mouth. Keeping her eyes on me, she flicks the lighter.

What she doesn’t see—what no one, I hope, sees—is that the cigarette is already lit, and flame is indigo.

Taking a long pull on the cigarette, Bianca coughs. In fact, she coughs so hard she drops her purse. When the spell passes, her eyes are streaming.

“Wow,” I say. “Do you want those lung chunks back?”

One of her pals hands Bianca a tissue and she wipes the mascara from under her eyes. Then she rakes her free hand through her long hair. “Look,” she wheezes. “You need to understand how it works around here, Phoenix.” She jabs her cigarette in my direction. “Do you mind if I call you ‘Nix’?”

“Whatever.” I keep my tone light, but I’m watching the indigo flame consume Bianca’s cigarette at record speed. If she isn’t careful, she’ll—”

“Ow! What the—?” Bianca drops the cigarette.

One of her friends steps forward and grinds it out for her.

“Better try a new brand,” I say, smiling as Bianca inspects her fingers for burns. “So, you were about to explain how it works around here.”

She leans toward her purse, possibly to get another cigarette, reconsiders, and crosses her arms instead. “Right. Here’s how it works:  you’re new, you’re a loser, and your dad’s a drunk. That means you’re nothing at Eastfield. Worse than nothing, because your only friend is Chunky, here, and she’s so far off the radar, even Military Intelligence couldn't find her.”

Bianca stares at Regan and I stare at the smoldering purse at her feet. There’s a hole in the leather over the pocket where she stashed her smokes. I have the feeling I’m responsible, because the heat is receding from my face and my temper is cooling. The best thing I can do is get out of here before anyone notices.

“Fine," I say. "So can we call a truce?”

“You stepped on my head, Nix. You can’t undo that.”

Regan is backing away but before we can make our escape, someone comes up behind Bianca, stoops, and places one hand on her purse. Then he straightens up and meets my eye.

I realize it’s Kai Seaver even before I see his face, because I have the same sinking sensation I felt in the pool. He’s tall, broad-shouldered and stunning in his brown leather jacket, faded jeans and biker boots. But his expression is dark. He’s like a black hole that sucks the energy out of me.

“Hey,” Bianca says, trying to shove him. “Did you just touch my purse?”

Kai steps out of reach. Bianca gets her answer in the form of a large wet handprint on the bag over a burn hole. A chill runs up my spine.

“What did you do?” Bianca roars. “That’s a three hundred dollar bag!”

Ignoring her, Kai turns to me, as if expecting me to say something. I lock eyes with him, feeling the strength drain out of my legs. If I had to rely on my own will, I’d be stuck here, but luckily Regan gives my arm a yank and starts towing me away.

“Were you trying to steal my purse?” Bianca shouts up at Kai.

“Sure,” he says. I look over my shoulder and see him still watching me. “It goes with everything.”

We can still hear Bianca threatening to call the cops on Kai as the door of the school closes behind us.

The flames are moving up the aisle of grey industrial carpet toward the pulpit. An oak table to the left of the pulpit catches fire and one spindly leg quickly gives out, sending a large floral arrangement crashing to the floor. Lilies and roses wilt in the heat and then disappear. Flames climb the pulpit more slowly, eating into the heavy wood. A white cross hangs in front of a stained glass window with blue, green, red and yellow diamonds lit up by the flicker of orange. To the right of the pulpit is a door, and beside it on the floor sit two gallon-size white plastic containers. The door is ajar and I catch a glimpse of a man in a black baseball cap, white T-shirt and black work boots. When flames start racing up the cross, he steps back and closes the door.