It was the kind of life I'd seen on TV, but never in person.
Still, it fit with Arden Weathers – with her prissy attitude and obsession with grades.
Now, I regretted coming in. "Sorry, I didn't know 'cookies' were on the line."
"Oh? So you've got something against cookies?"
"Me? Nah." At that moment, I almost hated her. She didn't know how good she had it. Probably she never would.
I replied, "Just people who make them."
"I hope you're talking about me," she bristled, "because if you mean my grandma—"
Cutting her off, I lifted the lighter to her face. Without bothering to flick it on, I asked, "You sure you don't need a light?"
She glared at the lighter and then at me. "Trust me. I'm sure."
Like a total dick, I flicked it on, anyway. The flame wasn't close, but she got the idea. I was tired of her bullshit, of her perfect life, and her talk of grandma's cookies.
Her mouth thinned as she eyed the small flame. With all the prissiness of a schoolmarm, she said, "You know that's not allowed, right?"
So what? I did a lot of things that weren't allowed. But hey, at least she'd stopped talking about the fucking cookies.
Forcing a laugh, I flicked off the lighter and lowered it to my side. My laugh sounded fake, just like it felt. "Relax," I scoffed, "I'm not gonna burn your cookies."
She stared at me like I'd just asked for a blow job in the hall. "I don't get it," she said. "If you were just gonna be a jackass, why'd you bother to show up?"
The answer to this was easy. "Because I told you I would." Hell, I might regret it, but I had promised. So here I was. For all the good it was doing.
She shook her head. "So?"
"So I always do what I say."
"Oh, really?" Her mouth tightened. "Do you always do it seventeen minutes late?"
"Better late than never."
She stared up at me, like I was puzzle she was trying to figure out. I didn't like it. And I especially didn't like it when she said, "Has it ever occurred to you that if you just applied yourself, you'd be getting all A's?"
Sure. I'd thought about it. But unlike Arden, with her life of Grandma's cookies and who-knows-what else, I had bigger problems. And bigger plans, too.
Those plans didn't include college.
But a girl like Arden Weathers – she'd never get it. So all I said was, "Has it ever occurred to you that it's none of your business?"
"But what about college?" she persisted.
"What about it?"
"Aren't you worried you won't get in?"
What a joke. "Hell no." Me? Forget college. At this rate, I'd be lucky to graduate from high school.
I was only taking the advanced courses at all because they offered more grade points than the others, which meant I could blow off more classwork and make it up on the tests.
I wasn't stupid. I just had other things on my mind – and no plans to spend money and time paying for a so-called education.
The only reason I remained in school at all was because my dick of an older brother promised to kick my ass if I flunked or dropped out.
He didn't scare me. By now, I was pretty sure I could take him. But there were no guarantees. And besides, graduation was only two months away.
I was almost done.
Arden sighed. "Fine." And with that, she pulled out the lab key and inserted it into the lock. As she did, she muttered, "Just try not to blow anything up, alright?"
She didn't get it. My whole life was a powder keg, just waiting for a spark. Looking to drive the point home, I gave the forbidden lighter a final flick.
As the flame lit, I caught a whiff of something new – a smell that sent the blood rushing from my face, even as a sickening flash of light exploded out of the room. I gave Arden a hard shove as the door flew off its hinges, sending both of us reeling backward.
I dove forward and tackled her to the floor.
Was she hurt?
Fuck. If she was, it was all my fault.
If anyone should be hurt it was me. At that moment, I would've welcomed death rather than hurting a girl who'd done nothing worse than annoy me.
Arden was good. Yeah, annoying as hell, but good at heart. She was nice, too. People would miss her. But me? Not so much.
As these thoughts slammed around in my head, Arden kicked underneath me, trying to buck me off.
I refused to budge.
I didn't know if she was on fire or just freaking out. The smell of burnt hair filled my nostrils, making my blood run cold as sweat – or hell, maybe blood – dripped down my back.
Arden gave me a wild push. "Get off me!"
I still didn't move. "Not yet."
With a string of curses, she shoved again. And again. And again. Everything was a hazy blur until a surprising truth hit home. Holy shit, we were okay.
Or, at least, I sure as hell hoped so. Finally I moved aside and watched as Arden slowly sat up. With a trembling hand, she reached up to touch her face. She let out a long unsteady breath and lifted her gaze to mine.
I was staring now.
I was so fucking relieved she was okay.
And, as far I could tell, I was okay, too. Still, the explosion – or whatever it was – had left its mark on the girl in front of me.
Her bangs were singed, and her eyebrows were mostly missing. Still, in that one terrible moment, her face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, because by some miracle, I hadn't destroyed it.
Thank God.
Now, she was gasping like she was about to cry. Hell, I
