The Fire We Started | Wildfire Series Book 2

FIFTY-EIGHT

M A D I E

"The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body on its soft, close embrace. She went on and on. She remembered the night she swam far out, and recalled the terror that seized her at the fear of being unable to regain the shore.

She did not look back now."

The Awakening, Kate Chopin

The end of freshman year of college passed in a wave of excitement.

Yes, excitement. Everything was exciting and utterly dull at the same time. And I found that to be the best combination.

I went to class, worked at The Grounds, hung out with Nessa and Beau. Bren would visit every weekend, and I could almost pretend he still went here, too, making everything as it should be.

Although everything was as it should be. Uncertainty fell away. This was merely the beginning of a lucky life, and it didn't need to be rushed. My weekends were spent wrapped up in Bren, and my weekdays were spent wrapped up in...well, me.  I had this confidence in my existence that I'd never experienced before. Because it wasn't dependent on anything except for a belief in myself.

Bren kindled it. But I held onto it. Tightly. And it spread to every part of me.

When summer rolled around, I moved to Fresno, just as we'd planned. In the five weeks prior, as we'd continued our long-distance relationship, I felt the shift in Bren as he broke free from Luke Hadaway. Carefree smiles. Gazes without that bit of lingering darkness. A relaxed mood. But I'd never felt so happy for him as I did my first day back in Fresno when I visited him at work.

God, if I hadn't already been in love with Bren Hadaway, seeing him working with kids would have undoubtedly pushed my heart into overdrive. Well, it still did.

He might be ten years older than the pre-teens in the summer Directions club that he now ran, but he just fit there. I watched as he walked into the room and shed his worries, his perpetual broodiness. And the kids, they did the same.

They loved him; that much was immediately clear. Because he was real. He wasn't sunshine and roses. He wasn't that elementary teacher who had a smile in their heart and pep in their step. But he was honest, and they looked up to that. They looked up to him.

I always thought that I had put a little confidence back into Bren. But it was nothing compared to the confidence I saw in his eyes now, working with these small humans.

It made sense, though. In the past, whenever Bren felt uncertain or insecure, he'd try to help me, typically in a way that I really didn't need. Like washing my hair in the shower or carrying me across a parking lot. But it made him feel better. It made him feel worth something. It made him feel capable. Like he mattered.

Even though he mattered to me more than anything in the world, and he knew that.

Bren liked helping people. And he was good at it. But his dad had told him he had a savior complex, and so he'd fought that part of him. Luckily his dad was gone now. For good.

Without the experience and confidence boost he'd gained from working at Directions, I doubted I could have convinced Bren to take a summer online course with me. But he eventually relented, and we enrolled in a class that Hale suggested after I expressed how much I enjoyed Western Civ. History was fascinating—how it repeated itself until a spark lit and things burned, and the world changed its course.

I didn't know what I wanted to major in yet or what I wanted to do. But I was looking forward to learning about things that interested me. And luckily, Collins didn't mind if I hung out at the church while I worked on my homework and watched Bren with the kids. I never interrupted or kept him from his job. I just liked being there.