Cold Fire [SAMPLE]

[5]

 CHAPTER FIVE

At breakfast the next morning, my father puts down his steaming mug of coffee and newspaper to tell me that the flights have been booked. It's official – we'll be moving in just under three weeks. I only nod and finish up my food before hurrying out the door, in no mood to discuss relocation plans.

The rain from yesterday has yet to pass, but it's lighter now, and I walk to school without an umbrella, enjoying the feeling of the rain in my hair and on my arms. I take my time, not wanting to face the scene that will surely await me at school. I can already imagine their faces now: some will be horrified, some will shoot me accusing glances and others will confront me with angry faces, ready to tear me apart.

I don't feel ready to face up to any of those right now, and I especially don't want to see the look on my teacher's faces. That's what hurts the most: when those who are here to help don't want to have anything to do with you, let alone give you an education. I'm not wanted anywhere; not at school – not even at home.

When I near the front gate, I lower my head and stare at my feet, praying to get by unnoticed. Of course, it doesn't work, and the whispers drift over to me the second I walk through the gate. I focus on my feet and the sound of rain, drowning out everything else.

"Hey," comes a voice from behind me. My heart rate spikes and I fight to keep my breath even as I come to a halt and turn around to face the owner of the voice.

It's Caden, and I relax instantly.

"Hey," I say, filled with relief. I really hadn't thought he would still want to speak to me after what happened last night. In fact, the moment I saw the report on the news, all thoughts of him and his strange ability to see the spirits – as he calls them – left my mind. He was the last person I expected to see today.

"Are you okay?" he asks, picking up on my mood.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" I say defensively and turn around, continuing on my way to the front doors of the main school block.

He shrugs, matching his pace with mine. "I just thought you'd be unwilling to come to school today since that report on the girl's death broadcasted last night."

I look away, afraid he'll see the self-loathing scrawled across my face.

"It's not your fault, you know? No matter what everyone says, you weren't the one to rob her. It wasn't you who knocked her unconscious in a park in sub-zero temperatures."

I shake my head. "But I'm the reason she's dead. It was the cold that killed her, not the robbery. It's my fault and I deserve everything I get."

"You don't really mean that." Caden looks me in the eye with a hopeful and determined expression, as if he's trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince me.

I don't respond, but he gets the idea. I mean every word.

We're walking down the path that runs alongside the lawn when a breeze tickles my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps. While I'm terrified of what I know is about to happen and what that means for me, a part of me sighs and I think, Here we go again.

The moment another breeze comes, Caden comes to a halt, and as the freezing air sweeps over me, I find myself focused on his paling face rather than the cold.

"What is it?" I ask, hiding my goose bump ridden arms behind me back. I'm not going to give myself away – not yet.

His face fills with light fear as he too starts to shiver, the cold seeping through his thick hoodie. "You feel that?"