Little Spark

7 - Purgatory

Once I'm finally able to fall asleep, I have the murder nightmare again, but this time, the husband turns into my dying mother as soon as the bullet hits his chest. At the second gunshot, I open my eyes and find myself standing in a classroom holding the army medal clue up over my head and shouting, "DIE SHADOW SCUM!" (thanks for that, Neighbor James). When a ripple of snickers passes through the room, I discover I'm completely naked. Mortified, I light up like a Christmas tree and my fingertips shoot sparks and set the teacher's hair on fire. Suddenly the woman from the plane magically appears in front of me and says, "boo", but when I turn to run away, I discover the back-clad murderers blocking the door. The icy-eyed woman points her gun at me and pulls the trigger.

I wake with a start, and a ball of light bursts from my palm and disperses against the door. And of course, I'm twenty-three minutes behind schedule because I forgot to set an alarm, so I don't even have time to marvel over the fact that a freaking ball of light just burst from my palm and dispersed against the door. By the time I jam my front tire into the bike rack, which has been ingeniously placed at the very back of the school parking lot—you know, because people that bike to school obviously don't get enough exercise—it's two minutes to the bell.

I gather my long skirt just above my knees and sprint across the lot and up the steps to the automatic sliding doors of Cocoa Falls Senior High School. They're ridiculously incongruous with the ancient-looking interior, but they allow me to keep my momentum.

As I rush down the main hall, I silently thank Aunt Lil for providing me with a school map to study last week, but just when I reach the correct classroom wing, someone steps out of it. The collision lands me on my back and sends the other person's books into flight.

The ceiling stops spinning just as the bell rings, sealing my first-day failure to get to class on time. I shut my eyes in defeat.

After a few seconds, I hear a snort. "You taking a nap down there?"

When I open my eyes and see the blonde looming over me with his hands in his pockets, my mind goes temporarily blank—but then I realize he has zero intention of helping me up.

I roll to my knees and stand with as much dignity as possible; apparently not all guys around my age are as nice as Orion the friendly flight attendant. "Oh, I'm fine," I say, dusting myself off. "Thanks for asking."

He draws back, surprised. "I see somebody didn't have her Cheerios this morning, he says. "You must be new." His eyes run along my more filled-out areas like I'm some visual roller coaster. "I don't recognize your pretty face."

I clear my throat and cross my arms, feeling completely violated. "You know, to recognize my face, you'd have to actually look at it."

His eyes snap up to mine, and dread overtakes me. I want to move, to get away from him, but my feet feel like lead in my shoes.

"Oh, I'm looking," he says, leaning closer. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I can see the curved scar that goes from his left temple to just beneath the corner of his eye. His breath is super cold and minty like he's got a mouth full of Altoids, and it feels like the temperature around us has dropped thirty degrees. "Definitely don't recognize you." He smirks again, and I'm so annoyed by his arrogance, the burst of anxiety evaporates.

"You know, Casanova, when you knock a girl down, the polite thing to do is help her up."

"Last I checked, you crashed into me, New Girl. Wouldn't it be more polite for you to make sure I'm okay?"

I feel my brows pull together in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused." He winks. "Just watch where you're going next time, alright? Not everyone's as forgiving as I am."