Aallotar [Good Omens]

Eleven - Flame

Olly sat quietly on a wet bench in the school court yard. It had rained earlier that day, and everything smelled of it. Olly took a deep breath and smiled. As cold as she was, Olly was starting to warm up to London's weather; the scent reminded her of home and those days when she'd sit on the porch after a storm and read.

Olly opened her book and lost herself in the magical world held within its pages. The courtyard was partially empty, for many of the students had left for home already. In her peripheral vision, figures were crossing the courtyard, but she didn't care to take any attention away from her book enough to look.

Then, suddenly, her book lay open and face down on the wet conrete.

"What the hell!" she shouted instinctively.

"Ooh, got a mouth on her, doesn't she!" laughed a boy standing before her. His friends gathered around her until they formed a complete circle around the boy and Olly.

"What was that for?" she demanded, plucking the book from the ground and holding it from its corner. Her heart raced and her head flooded with emotions and angry thoughts. Her throat burned and eyes itched with tears, but there was no way she was going to cry in front of that idiot.

"'What was that for?'" mimicked the boy in a girly, American accent. Olly's face felt hot, as she stared at the boy with brown hair and eyes--his whole appearance and personality reminding her of dirt. "So, Ah-lay-ter, how's your stay in London been, so far? Are we too strange to be around?"

"You're the only thing strange around here." Olly realized how lame of a comeback that was, but she didn't break eye contact. The boys made fake exclamations and "ooohs."

"Aw, man, Ronny, she got you good!"

"Mate, she wrecked you!"

Olly had read a story once where a small child was being taunted by a vicious dog. The dog nipped at his feet as he clung to the tree, and barked at his every movement. But then the boy responded with just as much anger, letting the dog know that he wasn't scared any longer, it ran away in fear. Maybe that would work in this situation--if Olly fought fire with fire. People were becoming aware of the situation and gathered like the onlookers of a burning building.

"Hey, lads. Look what she's got." Ronny reached for her wrist, but she yanked it away, holding her arms close to her body. "That's a nice watch. I think I want it."

"Stay away from me," she warned. "I said to stay away!"

He grabbed her hand, but when she pulled her other arm back to hit him, it was seized by a few of Ronny's pals. Ronny unbuckled the watch in record time and waved it in front of her like treat in front of an animal.

"Aw, do you want it?" he added. The other boys let go of her, and she resisted the urge to snatch the watch back, knowing that she'd miss and make even more of a fool of herself.

"Give it back! That was my dad's; give it back!"

"'Was'? Where is he? Did something happen?"

"Shut up."

"Or what? You gonna tell the headmaster? You gonna--what do you Americans call it? 'Tattle'?" Perhaps she would, but that wouldn't solve anything.

Olly's fist first made contact with Ronny's cheek and then the side of his nose. In slow motion, it seemed, spit flew from his mouth and his skin contorted, rippling like waves of teenage acne. He fell to the ground, the watch flying from his grip. Olly fumbled for it and held it to her heart.

Beside Ronny's body lay something that fell from his pocket. Olly did not know what possessed her to pick up the fallen cigarette lighter, but its weight felt reassuring in her palm. Ronny's friends helped him up from the concrete, and he stared at her with orbs of fire.