Sophie Jordan - Firelight

Teenagers surround me. Human teenagers. Hundreds of them. Their voices ring out, loud and nonstop. The air is full of false, cloying scents. A draki’s worst hell.

It’s not that I never expected to live in the outside world. Among humans. I would probably have taken a tour. But no one tours during adolescence. Only as an adult, as a draki strong and fully developed, and never in a desert like this. All for good reason.

I resist the urge to scratch my arm. It’s only spring, but the heat and dryness make my skin itch. Beneath the buzzing fluorescent glare, a sick, wilting sensation coils through me.

Clearing my throat, I speak in rusty tones. “Hi, I’m Jacinda Jones.”

A girl near the front twirls a strand of her hair. “Yeah. We already know that.” She smiles, her lips obscenely glossy.

Mrs. Schulz saves me. “Where are you from?”

Mom drilled these answers into me. “Colorado.”

An encouraging smile. “Lovely, lovely. Do you ski?”

I blink. “No.”

“Where did you go to school?”

Mom covered this, too. “I was homeschooled.” It was the easiest explanation to get us enrolled. We can’t exactly ask the pride to forward my school transcripts.

Several kids laugh outright. The girl twirling her hair rolls her eyes. “Fuh-reak.”

“Enough, Brooklyn.” Mrs. Schulz looks at me again, her expression less welcoming now. More resigned. Like I just confessed to reading at a first-grade level. “I’m sure that has been an interesting experience.”

Nodding, I start for my desk, but her voice stops me, holds me hostage.

“And you have a twin sister, right?”

I pause, wishing the interrogation would end. “Yes.”

A boy with a patchy red face and small ferret eyes mumbles, “Double the pleasure.”

Other kids laugh. Boys mostly.

Mrs. Schulz doesn’t hear, or pretends not to. Just as well. I want this over so I can slink back to my seat and work at being invisible.

“Thank you, Jacinda. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Sure.

I return to my desk. Mrs. Schulz dives into a one-sided discussion on Antigone . I read the play two years ago. In its original Greek.

My gaze swings to the window and the view of the parking lot. Above the gleaming cars’ hoods, far in the distance, mountains break the sky, calling to me.

I’ve decided to try to fly. Mom did it when she lived here. It’s not impossible. Right now it’s hard to sneak away. Mom sticks so close. She’s determined to pick us up and drop us off from school like we’re seven-year-olds. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s afraid the pride will track me down at school or if she’s worried I’ll run. I like to think she trusts me enough to know I wouldn’t do that.

Sneaking away to stretch my wings for a little while isn’t stopping Mom and Tamra from having the life they want so badly.

I shift in my seat, the crinkle of the city map in my pocket my only hope right now. I’ve pored over it several times already, memorizing every park in the area. Just because I live here doesn’t mean I’m willing to wither away. The thought of flying again is the only thing keeping me going. Risky or not, I’ll taste the wind again.

The bell rings, and I’m on my feet with everyone else.

Ferret Eyes turns to me and introduces himself. “Hey.” He nods slowly, giving me a full appraisal. “I’m Ken.”

“Hi,” I manage, wondering if he somehow thought his “double the pleasure” remark won me over.

“Need help finding your next class?”

“No. I’m good. Thanks.” Stepping past him, I hurry to my locker, head down.

Tamra’s waiting for me. “How’s it going?” she asks brightly.

“Fine.”

Her smile slips. “You have to be open to it, Jace. Only you can decide to be happy.”

I work the combination, mess up, and try again. “Enough with the psychology please.”

She shrugs and fingers her iron-flat hair. It took her an hour in the bathroom to accomplish the feat, but she saw it in a magazine and wanted to match the picture. My own red-gold hair trails down my back in a frizzy, crackling mess. Wild with static. Like the rest of me, it misses the mist.

I survey her, so chic in her snug red top, dark jeans, and knee-high boots she bought over the weekend at a thrift store. Several guys walk past and do a double take. She’s at home in this world, not suffering any of my unease, not even pining for Cassian anymore. And I’m happy for her. Really. If only her happiness wasn’t my misery.

“I’ll try,” I promise, meaning it. It’s not like I want to ruin this for her.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” She digs in her satchel. “Look. They’re having tryouts for next year’s cheerleading squad.”

I glance down at the bright orange flyer in her hand and wince at the cartoons of tiny pom-poms and somersaulting, short-skirted girls.

She waggles the paper. “We should try out together.”

I finally get my locker open and swap out textbooks. “Nah. You go ahead.”

“But you’re so”—her amber gaze sweeps over me meaningfully—“athletic.” She might as well have said draki.

I shake my head and open my mouth to stress my unwillingness, then stop. My flesh shivers. The tiny hairs at my nape prickle in alert. A textbook slips from my fingers, but I don’t move to pick it up.

Tamra lowers the flyer. “What? What is it?”

I stare over her shoulder, down the crowded hall. A warning bell peals, and everyone’s movements become frenzied. Lockers slam and the soles of shoes squeal against the tiled floor.

I remain still.

“Jace, what ?”

I shake my head, unable to speak as my gaze darts over every face. Then I find him. See him. The one I sought before I even realized it, before I even understood…. The beautiful boy.

My skin snaps tight.

“Jacinda, what is it? We’re going to be late to class.”

I don’t care. I don’t move. It can’t be him. He can’t be here. Why would he be here?

But it is him.

Will.

He leans against the lockers, taller than everyone around him. Twirly-hair Brooklyn plays with the hem of his shirt, shamelessly leaning into him, glossy lips moving nonstop. He smiles, nods, listens as she chatters, but I sense that he doesn’t really care, that he’s somewhere else…or wants to be. Just like me.

I can’t look away.

Honey brown hair falls over his brow carelessly, and I remember it darkly wet and slicked back from his face. I remember the two of us alone in a cave, his hand on mine and that spark that passed between us before his face became so stark and angry. Before he vanished.

Tamra sighs beside me and twists around to see. “Ah,” she murmurs knowingly. “Yummy. Too bad though. It looks like he’s got a girlfriend. You’ll have to set your sights on someone else—” Facing me, she gasps. “Jace! You’re glowing!”

That jerks my attention back. I glance down at my arms. My skin blurs in and out, shimmering faintly, like I’ve been dusted with gold.

The draki in me stirs, tingling, yearning to come out.

“God, get a grip, jeez!” Tamra hisses, leaning closer. “You see a hot guy and start to manifest? Have some control.”

But I can’t. That’s what Tamra never understood. When emotions run high, the draki surfaces. In times of fear, excitement, arousal…the draki comes out. It’s the way we are.

I look back at Will and pleasure whips through me. And beneath it, fear at what his being here means.

My sister grabs my arm and squeezes almost cruelly. “Jacinda, stop it! Stop it now!”

Will’s head lifts with the suddenness of a predator scenting its prey and I wonder if hunters are really human at all. If maybe they aren’t just as otherworldly as the draki. He looks around, searching the hall as I struggle to get myself under control. Before he sees me. Before he knows.