SAFE . . . reyna ramirez-arellano

1 - purple fire

BRIAR WOKE UP from the most horrible dream. She'd seen a giant . . . purple fire . . . someone she knew, tied to a stake. But as soon as she'd waken up, every image had left her, leaving her with jarring words that didn't make sense to her, but they'd sounded threatening. Briar knew that she hated threats.

Then she frowned, looking around her. What did she know?

She recognized the guy next to her. She knew his face, she knew that his name was Jay . . . Jas . . . Jason. Yes. Jason.

But she didn't know where she was. She swore that she wasn't supposed to be on a bus. She swore that someone else was supposed to be with her — purple fire and the feeling of home was all she associated with that other person, though. She swore that she wasn't supposed to be here.

But where was here?

A few dozen kids sprawled in the seats in front of her, listening to iPods, talking, or sleeping. They all looked around her age . . . fifteen? Sixteen? Okay, that was terrifying. She didn't know her own age.

The bus rumbled along a bumpy road. Out the windows, desert rolled by under a bright blue sky. Briar was pretty sure she didn't live in the desert. She tried to think back . . . the last thing she remembered besides that dream . . .

"Hey." A familiar voice said, and she nearly jumped out of the seat, looking sideways to see Jason. At least, she thought he was Jason. "You're Briar, right?"

"Yeah," she said shakily. "Sorry, you scared me. Do you know where we are, Jason? Is that even your name?"

In the front of the bus, a teacher shouted, "All right, cupcakes, listen up!"

The guy was obviously a coach. His baseball cap was pulled low over his hair, so you could just see his beady eyes. He had a wispy goatee and a sour face, like he'd eaten something moldy. His buff arms and chest pushed against a bright orange polo shirt. His nylon workout pants and Nikes were spotless white. A whistle hung from his neck, and a megaphone was clipped to his belt. He would've looked pretty scary if he hadn't been five feet zero. When he stood up in the aisle, one of the students called, "Stand up, Coach Hedge!"

"I heard that!" The coach scanned the bus for the offender. Then his eyes fixed on Briar, and his scowl deepened.

She felt herself freeze in fear. She was sure the coach knew she didn't belong there. He was going to call Briar out, demand to know what she was doing on the bus — and she wouldn't have a clue what to say. Besides for the fact that his outfit was absolutely horrendous. She hated orange in general.

But Coach Hedge looked away and cleared his throat. "We'll arrive in five minutes! Stay with your partner. Don't lose your worksheet. And if any of you precious little cupcakes causes any trouble on this trip, I will personally send you back to campus the hard way."

He picked up a baseball bat and made like he was hitting a homer.

Jason looked at her. "I don't know why we're here. I remember that we . . . we're friends. Nothing more."

"Nothing more," Briar agreed. She knew that for certainty. She knew that there was someone else . . . dark hair, darker eyes . . . tied to a stake? "I know literally nothing. I know that we're not supposed to be here, though, so that's something."

The boy in front of them turned and laughed. "Yeah, right, Briar. We've all been framed! I didn't run away six times. You and Jas didn't lie to some pretty important people about pretty important stuff."

They both frowned at him. Briar would never do that! Well . . . maybe she would. But Jason? She had a feeling that he wouldn't do anything like that.

The boy looked like a Latino Santa's elf, with curly black hair, pointy ears, a cheerful, babyish face, and a mischievous smile that told you right away this guy should not be trusted around matches or sharp objects. His long, nimble fingers wouldn't stop moving — drumming on the seat, sweeping his hair behind his ears, fiddling with the buttons of his army fatigue jacket. Either the kid was naturally hyper or he was hopped up on enough sugar and caffeine to give a heart attack to a water buffalo.