“Brandon Locklear.”
“Nice. I’m Dixie Burrell.” It’s silent for a few seconds again. I have no clue what she wants from me, but she keeps talking anyway. “So how did you do it? How’d you start the fire?”
“Matches.” I shrug.
She makes a face. “You’re allowed to use those? My pop won’t let me near them. He’s afraid I’ll destroy things.” She sighs out loud.
“I stole them.” I almost feel proud to say it.
She side-eyes me, but then a wicked grin appears on her lips. “Damn …”
I grin back. Never saw a girl’s eyes sparkle that much when they’re close to me. Most girls think I’m scary.
Suddenly, she shrieks. “There’s a bug! Look!”
A beetle crawls through the grass, desperately trying to escape the blaze.
She bumps her elbow into my side. “You gotta save it!”
I pick it up and inspect it, checking to make sure it’s okay. It stays on my finger for a while, and we both check it out. Then it suddenly flies off and sits down again on a leaf a few inches away from us, leaving us both perplexed. And smiling.
I didn’t think I’d ever smile here at school.
“Hey, Dixie! Why you hangin’ out with that Indian?” an arrogant voice speaks up.
I turn my head. A blond-haired white boy in overalls along with two other brown-haired boys wearing the same thing stare us down from the middle of the schoolyard. Derek and the twins, Ben and Danny. The popular kids in class … as well as a group of bullies.
“Noneya business!” Dixie hollers back.
The blond-haired boy, Derek, isn’t having it as he puts his hands against his side. “Ya know those fuckers can’t be trusted.”
Fuckers. As if I’m trash to be thrown out. At least I’m not an asshole. And what do they even know about trust?
Grinding my teeth, I glare at the fire, wishing they were closer so I could throw the ash in their faces. However, right before I open my mouth to spit something back, Dixie gets up on her feet and yells back.
“Shut your pie hole! Don’t you have any fuckin’ manners?”
Well, isn’t she a mouthy one?
The boy scoffs. “Manners? They don’t deserve manners.”
They. Meaning me?
He folds his arms. “Those Indians are always looking for trouble.”
I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. We didn’t do anything wrong. But it’s not the first time he’s accused me of something I didn’t do, and he’s not the first to do it either.
“Your papa won’t like you talking with him,” Derek adds, glaring at Dixie as if that’s a threat.
Will he tell her daddy about me? I hope not. I don’t want to get her in trouble.
“I don’t believe it. My father is friends with some Indians,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. “And I don’t care if he’s mad at me.”
Well, I’ll be damned.
I’m amazed as she stands high and mighty, feet planted firmly on the ground. She’s got balls to say that.
But Derek and his gang aren’t giving up. They march toward us and shove Dixie away. “Why are you protecting him?” Derek snarls.
“Leave us alone,” she barks back. “He’s my friend.”
Friend? I have a friend?
Suddenly, Derek steps forward and crushes the beetle underneath his foot.
“No!” I yell, and I get up and shove him so hard he falls to the ground.
Everyone’s surprised by my sudden rage, including Dixie who’s staring at me with her jaw dropped.
The twins help Derek to his feet, and for a second there, I think he might push me back. But then Dixie steps between us, her arms spread wide.
“Stop! Both of you,” she yells.
I’ve never had anyone speak up for me like that.
“Or what?” Derek taunts.
“You’re a bully, Derek. No one likes bullies.”
The fearlessness in her eyes makes me question everything. I thought I had no one. Thought I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself … But now this girl is suddenly at my side, defending me even when she doesn’t know me.
“You and that Indian can kiss my ass!” Derek says, sticking out his tongue.
“Go away!” She bends over and scoops up some dirt with her hand, throwing it in their direction. They dodge, so she picks up more and keeps chucking it at them until they run off. And even then, she continues chasing them, picking up dirt along the way.
Everyone’s gone again, leaving me in peace. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel good to be alone anymore. The relief I normally feel has made place for something else … an emptiness and longing … a longing for a friend like her.
And for that fire behind me to burn those little shits to ashes.
Chapter Two
Brandon
Age 16
“Go on then … do it,” Hanson eggs me on as we stand in front of the trash can outside the back of the shop.
With a smug smile, I chuck a few ounces of oil into the trash can. I nudge him back and lean away too as I say, “Watch this.”
Then I light a match and throw it in as well.
A fireball erupts.
Hanson’s eyes light up like he’s seeing fireworks. “Fuck …” he says in awe. “Nice.”
It wasn’t a big explosion, but I don’t wanna ruin the building either. My papa owns this Stop & Shop, and he’d be really pissed if I did something to make the place look like shit. But when the show is over, the walls aren’t black, and everything still looks pristine. Except the trash can of course.
“What are you two doing out here?”
My eyes widen, and my heart kicks up a beat as I hear my papa’s voice behind me.
“Making a mess again, are you?”
Fuck. He caught us.
Hanson ducks away while I close my eyes.
SLAP.
The force of his palm against the side of my head always makes me clench my teeth.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to play with fire?”
“It’s just a trash can, Papa,” I say as I turn around.
“Just a trash can …” he repeats, shaking his head. “Can’t believe this. And what’s this then, huh?” He holds up the canister of oil I left on the steps leading up to the door.