TORCH (14 page)

I start to speak but my dad holds up his hand. “This girl—” he points to Bianca—“has taken private lessons, right? Yet Phoenix seemed to be a match for her.”

Bianca finds her voice. “It was a lucky kick.”

Her mother shushes her. “Never mind. You could have been seriously hurt, Bianca. What if she’d knocked your teeth out?”

“No more beauty pageants,” I whisper.

It’s Dad’s turn to shush me. “You had no business kicking anyone, Phee. This is a beginner class.”

“I know. But she was—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “Apologize right now.”

This I expected. “I’m sorry I kicked you, Bianca. It won’t happen again.”

“It certainly won’t,” Mrs. Larken says, “Because you’re being expelled.” She turns to the principal. “Right, Bob?”

Mr. McCabe gives Chief Larken an uneasy look. “Expulsion is a last resort. Detention should suffice in this case.”

 Bianca’s dad isn’t even looking at Mr. McCabe. Instead, he’s staring at my dad, who’s staring at Ms. Giddon, who’s staring back at my dad. It’s like there’s a subplot that no one’s told the rest of us about.

“What do you think, Jenny?” Mrs. Larken asks Ms. Giddon.

Ms. Giddon finally breaks her eye lock with my dad and looks at Bianca. “Show Mr. Forsythe your chest.”

“Pardon me?” Mrs. Larken says.

“The mark,” Ms. Giddon says, “where Phoenix kicked her.”

Bianca yanks down the collar of her T-shirt to show a red heel-shaped mark that hasn’t faded much in three days. My dad leans in and an odd expression crosses his face.

“What does that look like to you?” Ms. Giddon asks my dad.

My dad doesn’t say anything. Instead, he looks at me. And then back at Bianca’s chest. Then he gazes around the principal’s office, as if he just landed on Jupiter.

“Well?” Ms. Giddon presses.

My dad finally answers. “It looks like Phoenix doesn’t know her own strength.”

Now when they stare at each other, it’s different. It’s like the power has shifted.

Bianca turns to me. “I could be scarred forever, you know. I have to see a dermatologist.”

“What about this?” I ask, sticking out my foot. “You clawed me and it’s still festering.” I left off the bandage to show the distinct nail marks, one of which is still infected.

Chief Larken looks at my leg, then at Bianca. “Did you do that?”

“
After
she knocked me down,” Bianca says.

“Well, if you had enough strength left to grab her, I guess you weren’t suffering too much.” Patting Ms. Giddon’s arm, the Chief says, “Don’t worry so much, Jenny. Girls will be girls.”

“Girls will be girls?” Ms. Giddon repeats, incredulously.

Principal McCabe intervenes. “So just a detention, then?”

 “For
both
girls,” the Chief says, over the raised voices of his wife and daughter. “Bianca, enough. Spend more time on Karate and less time shopping.”

Ms. Giddon’s pout equals Bianca’s. “I’m concerned about my dojo.”

“Don’t be,” Dad says. “Phoenix will take private lessons.”

“I don’t want to quit,” I say. This is the only club that both Regan and I have liked and it’s not fair to her.

“You’re quitting,” Dad says. “This club isn’t safe.”

Ms. Giddon is outraged. “Not safe? How dare you—”

“Sounds like we’re all in agreement,” Principal McCabe says. “Let’s put this behind us.”

 “Anything you want to talk about?” Dad asks, after ordering me to walk him to the parking lot. I fully expected to be leaving the school in shame, but now I have to go to math class. It’s almost disappointing.

“Just that I’m sorry for causing trouble,” I say. “Bianca gets under my skin. Literally.”

“Phoenix,” he says. “We really need to talk.”

We really needed to talk two months ago but he wasn’t interested then. I’m not interested now, because any conversation will end with a decree not to see Kai.

“Dad, did you know they think you’re starting fires?” I ask. “Bianca said you’ve been seen near every one of them.”

He stares at me, probably trying to figure out how much I know. “It’s a small town. And I was a firefighter for twenty years.”

So he’s not even trying to deny it. “But what are you doing there?”

“Keeping an eye on Uncle Rick,” he says.

“But why?” I ask. “If he’s not safe, couldn’t you just work with him?”

Dad turns and opens the door of the truck. “Phee, everything’s fine. Don’t worry Regan.” He rolls down the window and closes the door. “Why don’t we talk about this at home?”

“Sure,” I say, as he turns the key in the ignition. “Bye, dad.”

T
he pillow is wet with sweat when I turn over and switch on the light. I’m in the guest room at Regan’s house, where I decided to hide out from Dad for a couple of days since he’s off work and might want to have that conversation he mentioned.

Now I’m in a bind because I dreamed about a fire, and have to get to it without waking Regan. Luckily, I asked to take the guest room, saying that I didn’t want to disrupt her with my nightmares. Even more lucky, Regan’s dad is on an overnight shift.

Well, not lucky for Uncle Rick. The station he supervises has been incredibly busy lately. The season was the driest on record, and the summer wildfires have picked up rather than slowing as they usually do by November. Brush fires suck up a lot of time and manpower, and increase response time for regular fires.

All the more reason to see if I can beat them there. I slip into my clothes and text Kai: 
Fire @ 22 Brisbane Ave. C U there.

Creeping down the hall past Regan’s room, I shiver. The sweat is starting to cool and I have a bad feeling about this fire. According to my dream, it’s in a huge house that's in the middle of a renovation. The furniture was covered with sheets, and the place seemed vacant, so the residents must have moved out during the work. But I saw Black Hat, in his usual white T-shirt and baseball cap, in the backyard peering into the deep hole that’s been dug out for an addition.

Once I’m driving, my heart slows a bit. Knowing Kai will meet me there takes some of the pressure off. He’ll have ideas. It’s not all on me anymore.

In fact, Kai beats me there and waves me to a sheltered parking spot. As we jog the rest of the way, he pants, “I just called in the fire. From a cell I picked up at the corner store. Untraceable.”

“How long before they get here?” I ask.

“Fifteen minutes at most,” he says. “We only have time for a quick run through.”

Reaching the house, I lead Kai around the side, where the arsonist has left the door unlocked. “I think it’s empty but check the bedrooms,” I say.

“Stick together,” Kai says. “In exactly six minutes, we leave through this door and head back to the cars through the bush.”

Taking a deep breath, I follow him in. The fire is raging on the main floor, and working its way upstairs along a carpeted runner. Kai runs ahead of me up the staircase, nearly shimmering and creating a narrow path I can follow through the flame. Still, my jeans are smoldering when I reach the top of the stairs and Kai quickly pats down my legs with dripping hands to extinguish them. Then we check out the four bedrooms, finding them empty.

That’s when I realize how we can help, here. “The mattresses,” I say. “We need to get them downstairs.”

Kai doesn’t question me. Yanking one off the bed in the master bedroom, he strips the sheets. While he pulls it into the hall, I head into the next room and grab another mattress and do the same.

At the top of the stairs, I stare down at the fire consuming the covered furniture in the living room. “Soak them first,” I say. “Then we prop them against the sliding doors.”

He becomes a silvery blur as he circles the mattresses. “They’ll be heavier now,” he warns, picking up his sodden mattress and hauling it down the stairs.

I follow, pushing mine. Halfway down the stairs, I trip and tumble down the rest of the stairs, landing on top of the mattress. Kai pulls me to my feet and I say, “Keep going. Against the doors.

We stand the two mattresses against the sliding doors to the back yard, and the open hole in the ground.

“That’s all we have time for,” Kai says, leading me to the door. We stumble through the bushes toward the cars, hearing the alarms in the distance.

When the first trucks have passed, I turn on my cell light to help keep us from tripping. Kai reaches out to take my hand but thinks better of it.

“Did we do any good?” he asks, when we reach the cars. He’s soaked from head to foot, and my pants are burned to the knees.

“I think so,” I say. “The arsonist was really interested in that hole in the back, and it seemed like he was counting on the flames reaching it. Hopefully, the mattresses will hold the fire off until they get it under control.”

“Diner?” he asks, smiling as he peels off his T-shirt.

I shake my head. “Can’t, sorry. I’m staying at Regan’s and have to get back before she misses me.”

This time I don’t wait for him to take the initiative. I offer my arm and he plants a kiss in the crook of my left elbow that matches the fading scar on the crook of my right. The burning starts almost immediately, and we pull away in the same instant.

“To keep you safe,” he says, opening my car door. “I hope.”

Something is different when I creep into the guest room at Regan’s and flip on the overhead light. She’s in my bed, lying in wait.

“Jees, you scared me,” I say.

Regan scans me, from the twigs in my hair, to my muddy sneakers. “You wrecked your best jeans,” she says.

“And my jacket,” I say, pointing to a hole in the sleeve.

She sits up in bed, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

I sigh. “Ree, it’s not good, and I don’t want to drag you into it.”

Dividing her bushy hair into three strands, she braids it quickly to get it out of her eyes. “I’m your best friend. If you’re in trouble, I want to help.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. But it’s too dangerous.”

“I can see that,” she says, looking at my jeans.

Unzipping, I step out of my clothes and turn to pick up my pajamas from the floor.

Regan gasps. “Phee. Oh no.”

I turn back. “What’s wrong?”

“Your... back. There are scars.”

Damn. I forgot about the fading handprints on my butt and waist. “It’s not what you think,” I say.

“I think Kai did that.”

“Okay, it is what you think, but not
how
you think he did it. He was pushing me out of the pool. Saving me.”

She blinks at me a few times, and rubs her forehead. “Can you start at the beginning?”

I sit down on the bed. “I’ll tell you everything, but only if you promise me you won’t tell your dad. There’s something funny going on with my dad and these arsons, and I have to figure it out before the police do.”

“But my dad could help,” Regan says.

“Ree, promise me. I think it could help your dad, too.”

After she agrees, I tell her everything, from the fiery dreams to my episodes with Matt Huxley and Bianca. The story takes over an hour. By the time I’m finished, she’s pulled the covers over her chin and her brown eyes are huge. I wait for her to speak, and when she doesn’t, I say, “Ree, it’s still me. Same Phoenix, new problem.” I force a laugh and it’s enough to get her to unclench her fists. The sheet is crumpled and damp where she held it. “You said there was something weird going on, and you were right. Whatever it is, I’m part of it.”