The Last Flameling of Solnis

Enemy

I stand in front of Matias, suddenly mistrusting.

     "Talk fast. The bell is gonna ring soon," he tells me, the space in his stance meant to keep me in place.

     "I don't know what you're talking about," I push off and attempt to move around him but he quickly pins me to the wall.

     "What are you tryna to do here?" Mati demands with his forearm pressed against my chest, a mysterious flash crossing his eyes. "They wouldn't leave an earbud behind by mistake. Nothing they do is by mistake. They're using you to siphon information. So are you working for them? Or are you really just that stupid?"

"Get off me," I warn feeling my flame simmer within.

     "Or what? You'll call in back up?" He retorts. His silkened voice seems to ripple my skin. His eyes for sure flash an intimidating glare.

     "How do you know about the SIA?" I demand wondering of the sudden glow in his eyes, the aggression in his body. Is he another being of the stars?

     "How do you know about the SIA?" he avoids the question and throws it back at me.

     "Last time. Get off me!" I demand calling on a flame, a feeling, I haven't used since discovering this part of myself.

     "Make me," Mati growls, and I can feel myself dissolving, disintegrating, in vigilance. The world around me—smooth brick hallways, tan and purple lockers, and school event monitors—frays and bleeds into orange light. A single hallway tile is left in my sight. My target is illuminated by the orange flame. And in the space of a heartbeat, I'm transported there. The ringing of the late bell fills my ears as I reappear.

A plume of orange smoke, I find myself whole again at the end of the hall, my back turned to Matias. I look at him over my shoulder standing there astonished, and gone as quickly as I blink.

Mati's disappearance is strange, but when I hurry through the halls and arrive to U.S government he's standing at Dr. Reid's door with another late note in hand.

     "Forgot you were my buddy?" I chuckle as we meet at Dr. Reid's closed door.

     "Nope. I just saved you from making things worse for yourself on the schools cameras. I see you're too green to be a part of the SIA, so they must be after you."

     "You'd be right," I admit and a self-satisfied smirk forms on Mati's lips. "But that still doesn't explain how you know about them."

     "Not now," he dodges as his eyes avert over to the glass panel of Dr. Reid's door. Our teacher stares through the window and approaches us clearly annoyed.

     "Well. Come in already," he tells us in that posh British accent as he pulls the heavy wooden door open. He takes the note from Mati, meant to excuse the two of us and shoos us to seats near the back.

     I've never really had a problem with this class so I just spend it taking notes and avoiding the glare of a familiar face. Avoiding the guilt that picks at me when I see DeShea on the edges of my vision struggling to write with a bandaged arm.

     He holds a blue bic pen in a loosely balled fist but when the pen slips out of his hand for the third time, he crushes it under his functional fist. Alaia, startled by the sudden outburst, the bits of plastic scattering across their space, tries to calm him down. She takes his notebook and writes for him, and even though I try to just focus on Dr. Reid's lecture on pre-colonial African history, I can almost feel DeShea leering at me.

It's like my neck and the side of my head grows warm as if a flame will burst from my very pores.

I run my hands through my locs and rest a hand on my warming skin. I invest all my willpower into finishing my notes for the rest of class and when the bell rings, I'm quick to collect my things again and leave.