The Fire Starter (6 page)

Someone was shouting. There was an argument and I heard two male voices somewhere around the room. My mind was in a daze, trying to make sense of what happened to me. I opened my eyes a little and it hurt, but I caught a glimpse of a room with pale blue curtains. There was a scent I couldn't place, minty and musky.

And then I stood upright with alarm. It was Spencer's cologne. Two pairs of eyes looked at me with alarm with my sudden movement, and I realized that I was back at the castle, probably in one of their rooms. From the looks of the books strewn across the tables, it seemed like I was in Spencer's room.

I flung my feet off the huge bed and found my shoes before they could even speak. Spencer hurriedly crossed the room and checked my temperature by placing his hand on my forehead. "How are you feeling?"

I didn't want to answer as I remembered what led to this scenario. Him admitting that he was with Alice in her room doing who knows what right after we almost kissed. I stood up, holding on to the edge of the bed for support waiting for my vision to clear. Everything around me spun uncontrollably.

Someone was holding my hand, helping me up when I fell, but I pulled my arm back ungratefully. If I could just reach that door and be gone out of his grasp… but what would I do if I left this room? How would I manage by myself to go back to my own one, given my condition? He let me go and when my vision cleared, I walked several steps only to feel myself stumbling again.

I'd been drugged. There was no other explanation for this. I had almost reached the closed door when I felt the world spinning again. I lost my balance and felt myself spiraling downwards.

Strong arms wrapped against my back, stopping my downfall. Spencer's face was barely recognizable as my half-dazed eyes squinted. He looked disheveled. He could be Evan, for all I care. There's too much resemblance and his hair was somewhat messier than usual, making it hard for me to recognize him except for his smell. "Let me go," I whispered weakly.

"Stop running away." He said, and there was a hint of anger in his voice.

"Let me go," I repeated, although I don't know what would happen to me if he did that. I might tumble to the floor without enough strength to stand back up. I feel so dizzy and there was a lump in my throat.

"No!" that was the first time he had raised his voice. At me, at anyone else. He didn't look as calm as I remembered him to be, and I was silenced. I held on to his arm, letting him carry me back to the bed without another word. While he adjusted a blanket over my head, I realized that I was shivering.

His touch was warm against my cold skin, and I was grateful for the contact. "Stay here and rest. When you get better, I'll let you go. I promise."

But I didn't want to. I didn't want him to let me go. I shook my head, already being sucked back into the world of sleep.

It's either he didn't move or he just resumed his position, since when I came to, I noticed he was just as I had left him. Still sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand stranded where I held it close to my face. He looked concerned. I could see him much clearer now, and his hair was indeed in disarray. His clothes weren't perfectly buttoned and there were creases everywhere. His eyes were pools of molten chocolate, worried and sad.

I wanted to speak, but he beat me to it. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," my voice croaked. I realized how parched I felt. "Where's Evan?" I asked, remembering that Evan was here earlier.

"Already asleep," he whispered, handing me a glass of cold water with his other hand.

I let go of his hand and tried to sit up with difficulty. The cold water felt good against my parched throat. I felt sore all over, as if I've been trampled on by a thousand elephants. Every muscle in my body ached. I tried to move, and an "Ow" escaped my throat.

"What is it? Does it hurt?" Spencer asked, alarmed.

"Try asking where it doesn't hurt," I replied wryly. He sighed, probably finding it difficult to take care of someone. "Can you help me up?"

"Why? Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"No. I want to go to my room."

"You can't. You're not strong enough."

"If you could just help me--"

"Why are you making this difficult, Kayleigh?" He asked, his voice threateningly louder. "Why are you making everything so hard!"

"I'm sorry!" was all I can say, raising my voice to meet his anger. "I'm sorry I'm being difficult, okay! I'm sorry you're stuck here with me instead of being somewhere else because clearly you don't want to be here!" I didn't know where I got the strength to say mouthful after mouthful of words, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. "I'm sorry I'm causing you trouble! Don't worry, I won't bother you again anymore!"

"Kayleigh--"

"I said I'm sorry!"

I wanted him to leave me alone, but he only did the opposite. He reached out to me and pulled my frail body against him, closing his arms around me. I'm too weak to complain, and his body heat felt good against the chill. But I didn't return his hug.

I was thankful when the door opened and Reid came in. Spencer drew back and let me go. He stood up and faced Reid, turning his back to me. I felt something warm on my cheeks and I brushed away the tears angrily.

"I brought some food. You two should eat," Reid said, his blue eyes darting back and forth from Spencer to me.

"I'm not hungry," we both answered at the same time.

Spencer excused himself and went out; probably to tell his girlfriend he wouldn't be meeting her tonight because he's inconvenienced with my presence. Reid positioned himself where Spencer sat earlier and smiled at me. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I said stubbornly. "Can you help me up?" Reid seemed to debate with himself whether to help me or not. One quick assessment of my shivering and weak body told him I wouldn't be able to stand up for long. "Please?"

He didn't help me up, but instead he carried me, still cocooned in the blanket, out of the room. I didn't have to tell him and he didn't have to ask. We reached my room in no time and he opened the door with the key he always carried with him. It took no effort at all to get me to my own bed and I switched Spencer's blanket with one of my own. I feel comfortable already.

"Thanks Reid," I whispered as he closed the lights and prepared to leave.

"I'll get someone to look after you, okay?" he said, and there was no arguing with him.

"Not Spencer," I demanded.

"Not Spencer," he echoed, just before I fell asleep.

When I woke up to find Blake looking at my things with a curiosity that bordered on comical, I had to restrain myself from shouting at him. My voice still felt raw from shouting earlier, and I knew it wouldn't make him stop what he was doing anyway. He was opening one drawer right after closing another when he managed to see that I was already awake.

"You're still alive," he teased, already handing me a glass of water before I could even ask.

"Thanks," I said after finishing it off. "How long have I been out?"

"A few days," he said with a shrug.

"Really," I said in disbelief, rolling my eyes at him.

"Just three hours, I guess." He looked at his watch to check. I caught a glimpse of the time. Four thirteen in the morning.

"You should get some sleep," I said. "I've inconvenienced you enough."

"It's okay. I like watching you sleep," he said sarcastically, and with a horrific wink to boot. "But if you insist, there's plenty of room in there for both of us." He finished after surveying my bed.

"No." I chuckled, and it hurt my throat.

"Just say it and I'll be hopping to your bed in no time," he joked as he slumped down a chair near the bed and opened one of my books. "There's some food if you want."

"I'm not hungry."

He laughed at nothing funny. "I wonder who will win."

"What?"

"Oh nothing. There's just this competition between you and Spencer on whoever gets to decline food the longest."

So he hasn't eaten anything yet. "Why isn't he eating?"

"I don't know. He has never been the easiest person to understand," he said, but he was observing my face with a solemn expression that I didn't think he knew how to muster. "He's suspended, you know."

It didn't help make me feel better knowing that Spencer had been suspended because of me. Apparently, Reid had grounded him, but it was clear Reid only had to do that because a couple of students saw Spencer running outside the school grounds, which is forbidden.

"He shouldn't have come after me," I said grudgingly. Did he blame me? Was it the reason why he shouted at me? Something tells me it isn't, but what is?

"And what? Let you out there on your own? You've been there a few seconds and look what happened to you." Blake was probably the only one in the group who wasn't scared of telling me what really had happened. He didn't care if I was upset or that I was weak. He knew I was wrong. I needed the scolding.

"I don't even know what happened."

"Those kids," he said, his eyes faraway and serious. "They aren't really human."

"What?" There's the pain in my throat again.

"They use the kids to…lure strangers. To entrap them."

"I don't understand…"

Blake looked around the room, as if someone would be hiding in my closet to hear. "If Spencer wasn't there, you probably wouldn't have made it back here. You would probably think you were one of them."

There was a coldness seeping inside me from the ends of my toes up to my head, settling on my brain. The coldness didn't leave and instead settled there, making me feel like a puppet. Like a zombie. Like I'm dead. "I thought I was drugged," came my confused voice.

"Drugs? Oh, no. They don't use drugs, honey." He patted my hand, making me jump at the contact. I realized this was the first time he had touched me.

"You're scaring me," I didn't have to pretend, because there was a clatter in my teeth that told him I was really scared.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm sorry if it scares you, but it's true. They've taken a few students from here before. You were already falling when Spencer caught up with you. Trust me. If he had been a few seconds longer, we wouldn't have been able to retrieve you."

Amidst everything that he's saying, there was one thing nagging at me. If Spencer hadn't gotten there on time, I would have been gone. But then… "What would have happened to Spencer then?"

Blake didn't answer this. The seriousness in his voice was gone, and it was replaced by his usual arrogant demeanor. "I've probably said enough. So, are you sharing your bed with me?"

"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"What? Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because if they are as horrible as you say they are, they would either take Spencer too, or…kill him." I didn't know where I got that idea, but I knew it was true. I would get their friend killed because I couldn't follow the rules. Maybe that's why Reid didn't stay with me and instead asked for Blake to do it. Maybe that's also the reason Evan didn't talk to me.

I didn't want to be better the next day, but it seems whatever 'magic' the gypsies used on me had already worn off. I felt as good as new. It's as if nothing happened. I could go to class and do my routine as usual. But I didn't. There's someone I have to thank for risking his life for me, and for being suspended because of me.

I found him in the library, of course. I carefully slid across the booth, checking to see if he was mad at me or not. I just needed to thank him. That would lessen the burden I felt inside my chest. "Hey," I said tentatively.

He didn't look up, but he acknowledged me with a "Hi."

"Here," I took the sandwich I had brought from the cafeteria earlier and pushed it towards him. "I'm guessing you haven't eaten yet.

"Thanks," he said, but his hand didn't move to take my peace-offering.

I should just finish this as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry you got suspended…"

"It's okay. I could finish our project in the mean time. I won't be missing much."

"Spencer…"

"Did you really think I didn't want to take care of you?" he asked all of a sudden, his eyes trained on me. I squirmed in my seat at the intensity of his gaze. He was mad at me. That was plain and clear.

I'm sorry I'm being difficult, okay! I'm sorry you're stuck here with me instead of being somewhere else because clearly you don't want to be here!

I struck my forehead with my palm. I shouldn't have said those things. I shouldn't have been angry at him, when all the time he had been taking the blame for me. But what should I say?

"You have no idea about the things that you're saying. You have no idea of how you're hurting people," he said through gritted teeth.

"I'm--"

"And don't even say you're sorry."

"But--"

"Nobody told me to go after you, Kayleigh. And nobody had to. I knew where you were going, and that it was dangerous out there. They could have killed you!" The librarian shushed, but Spencer was beyond caring. "I don't care if I'm suspended, but I can't lose you!"

I think I heard that last past incorrectly. With the tears streaming down my face and with the anger his eyes were communicating, it seemed impossible that he said he didn't want to lose me. What did that even mean? "I'm sorry for all your trouble."

I found myself running. Not outside the gate this time, because I already know the dangers that await out there. I just wanted somewhere quiet; somewhere no one else would go to. I opened the heavy door surprisingly easily and crossed the moat before circling to the forest. It's just before lunch, and everything should be easy to see. I could choose one of the low trees and hide under its shade while I make sense of everything.

He's angry at me. He's not just angry, he hates me. He hates me because I endangered my life and he had to endanger his to get to me. I think I've never hated myself before, but I'm quite certain I hate myself right now.

What happened to changing, to being a better person? A better person wouldn't be hurting others, endangering their lives.