The two shared an awkward silence. Teddy wished she were the kind of person who would not have hesitated on the course. Like Pyro. Teddy hoped Molly could feel what she was feeling right then, because she wasn’t capable of saying it out loud. “Anyway,” Teddy said, “I was dragged here under the promise of burgers, and I have yet to find one.”
Molly nodded toward a figure emerging from the woods: Jeremy, carrying a box from In-N-Out.
“My hero,” Teddy said as she accepted a wrapped burger. She held it to her nose and inhaled. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” she said to Jeremy.
“Me or the burger?” Jeremy asked.
“I love you each in your own special way.”
Jeremy blushed.
Dara walked up behind Teddy, grabbing a burger. “All right, leave some for the rest of us, Cannon.”
Teddy took two more burgers and followed Dara to the campfire, where they sat down on a log to eat.
“You never mentioned how your test went,” Teddy said to Dara. She wanted all the intel on the psychic-ability exam; she needed any help she could get.
Dara chewed her bite of burger longer than necessary. “I come from a long line of psychics,” she said. “Like great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother long. My family expected me to go into the ‘business,’ but I didn’t show any aptitude until a year ago, when I saw my grandmother’s death. That was really messed up. My mom was relieved, though. That was doubly messed up. So I’ve gotten only one real death warning, and now I’m here.”
So Dara was still figuring out her psychic abilities, too. “They must think you have potential, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Teddy said.
Dara shrugged. “I guess. Hand me another burger, would you?”
Teddy passed another from her stash.
“So, speaking of contraband,” Dara said, “there’s a rumor that Brett has keys to the reception of the lab. He’s running some sort of black-market setup where you can trade crap for Internet access. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t go a whole year without checking Facebook.”
Teddy had little interest in status updates, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss being plugged in. “I thought there were computers we could use on campus.”
“Have you seen those computers? They’re PCs from the nineties. I’m talking dial-up action. And first-years can’t even use them until second semester, when we have case assignments.” Dara took another bite of her burger. “Also, I suggest becoming Jeremy’s best friend ASAP, because he’s the only one we know who’s got a way off-island.”
“How’s that?”
“He’s got a boat stashed somewhere. His family is from San Francisco, and apparently, they’re loaded. Not quite Whitfield rich, but almost.”
Teddy watched as Jeremy whispered into Molly’s ear and Molly smiled. Jeremy didn’t seem like the kind of guy to have a ton of moves, but he must have found one that worked on Molly. Teddy hoped she wasn’t just in it for the boat.
Teddy put down her burger. “I’m going to get another drink. Want anything?”
Dara shook her head.
As Teddy made her way back to the bar, she cast glances for Pyro and Liz, but they were nowhere to be found.
“Looking for someone?” a voice behind her said.
“Not someone,” Teddy said, turning to face Pyro. “Something.” She held up her red plastic cup as evidence.
He leaned against a nearby tree. God, the leaning. “Come on,” he said. “You’ve been watching me all night.”
“You know, I had assumed you moved on,” she said. Teddy thought back to Boyd’s class. Talking about her feelings was harder than Boyd’s obstacle course. She didn’t want to make excuses, but she couldn’t let him think she was the kind of person who would leave a teammate behind.
“And why would I do that?”
She shrugged. “Because I was ready to abandon my teammate to cross the finish line.”
“I saw you tonight.” His gaze flicked down her body. “And I reconsidered.”
“Seriously, Pyro.”
“I’m being serious,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It happens. People choke.”
“Not you.”
“Yes. Me. I left someone behind once.” He shifted on his feet, visibly uncomfortable. “My first week.”
“Tell me,” she said.
He looked up at the stars as if searching for a sign, a reason to continue. “My partner, Anthony Mandarano,” he said, looking back at her. “Just had his second kid—baby girl. It was just supposed to be a normal, regular 415.” He turned away from Teddy. “When we arrived at the scene, we heard shots. Anthony told me to call for backup while he went through the back entrance. He—” Pyro turned back to face Teddy. His eyes were blazing. “He was shot while I was radioing for help. If I had gone with him, or if I had been the one who had gone . . .”
Teddy wanted to brush his hair from his forehead, touch his cheek. Instead, she said: “You were following protocol.”
“Yeah, tell that to his kids.”
“So that’s why you’re here?”
“I set the whole place on fire. The whole goddamn house. I didn’t even mean to do it.” He paused. “I was recruited after that.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Like you, I’m guessing.”
Teddy ignored the question, focusing her attention instead on the flames tattooed at the base of his neck and on his collarbone, and the long, lean cords of muscle visible through the thin white cotton of his T-shirt.
When she looked back at the campfire, she saw that the party was winding down. The music was playing low and slow; the dance floor had cleared out. The breeze coming off the bay had turned cool. She rubbed the goose bumps that sprang up on her arms. “We should go.”
“Why? You drunk?”
“Nope. I just feel . . . good.” That was true. The vodka had taken the edge off her headache.
“I wouldn’t want to make a move on you if you were drunk.”
“Oh?” She arched a brow. “You’re going to make a move on me?”
“Definitely.”
“What about Liz?” She hated trying to read guys. In that respect, this ignorance was bliss.
“I was
