Incinerate

Chapter 20 - The Lighthouse, Part 1

The day slogs on from one class to the next. As the rain continues to pour, a sleepy haze falls upon the school. If I were at home, I would be cuddled up in bed with a good book and some music playing through my Xbox. Maybe even a cup of hot chocolate. Alas, I'm stuck trying to stay awake through the last half of US History with Ms. Greene. I can only hear the story of Columbus so many times. I guess that's the point, to help drill our country's past into our heads, but my point still stands. It's all so repetitive. It feels like every year, whether back in Huntley or now here in Heritage Grove, we retrace our steps in any History class. Sometimes there will be a new side to the stories told, but it's mostly the same year after year. Thankfully, the bell wakes us all up and we're free to go.

Out in the hall, as I trek back to my locker, my stomach gurgles with its need. My pace quickens in its step to appease the growling monster within. The normal din of footsteps and voices takes over for the squeakiness of wet rubber soles on linoleum floors, for which I am grateful. Too much of the high staccato, especially when it surrounds me, makes my brain itch. Getting to my locker, my stomach lets its excitement known when I trade the textbook for the sack lunch waiting in my backpack.

"You forget to eat breakfast or something?" her curious snarky voice comes out of nowhere. "I could damn near hear you from across the hallway." Shutting the door, I find Sera looking up at me with that classic little smirk.

"No, I had some Lucky Charms," I tell her. "And it was delicious, thank you very much."

"Lucky Charms?" she giggles. "How old are you?"

"Old enough to not be bothered by someone's judgment of my cereal choices," I smirk back at her before setting off for the bell tower.

See how she likes it when someone drops the conversation, I think to myself with only a smidge of smugness.

"Where are you going?" she asks, catching up with me.

"The bell tower. For lunch."

"In this weather? Bad idea, dude." She tugs on my sleeve to make me stop, so I do. "I've tried it. Sounds cool in theory, but you're better off eating elsewhere."

"Then do you have a better place in mind?" I ask.

Sera takes hold of my hand without hesitation. Hers is hot in mine, almost as hot as it had been the other day. Does she just run hotter than most people? While odd, I don't pull away. Not that I would want to in the first place. The heat is nice, even through her black fingerless gloves. I can only imagine how hot her hand must be without the fashionable covering. Fuega caliente.

At the end of the line of lockers, leading toward the gym, is a door. It opens with ease at her request, and beyond it waits an old wooden staircase. Each step creaks as we ascend, though I feel as though our presence goes unnoticed. At the top is a landing with two paths: the first leads to a short set of stairs that stretch toward a stage; the other, which we take, has us pass through a doorway into another gymnasium I haven't seen before. A set of wooden bleachers sits against the far wall, but is flattened there to give more floor space. Banners of yesteryear's victories and triumphs hang here and there, marking championships and other accolades.

Yet Sera doesn't stop. We cross over the slim worn planks toward a set of double doors, each with its own little square window. They empty out into the atrium where, in the morning, students wait for the first bell. Along the wall ahead of us and to the left of the hallway that leads to the upper level of lockers, a door is propped open. Passing through the atrium, we enter through the door to find rows upon rows of bookcases. Wide windows showcase the dark skies and continued downpour, and in between the panes of glass are various posters encouraging us to enjoy a good book. (Not that I need to be told that, but it's quaint nonetheless.)