THE FIRE SAGA

SPARK 16 - RECREATION

I walk begrudgingly to the hospital exit. What I really want is to plant myself on my bench and brood. That isn't possible. Derry staked his own claim and is there waiting, just as he said.

His spotting me is enough to stir the spark inside me. He's a mixture of excitement, apprehension, and relief? Where would I run to? There's no back exit. Is he annoyed over waiting? I wasn't dragging my feet, though I'd be lying to say it hadn't occurred to me.

Carefully, I navigate the salted walkway. I don't want to take a tumble in front of him. Moreover, I don't want him to break the steady, smoldering gaze that's somehow stunned the ignited spark into submission. It's frozen, his honey-hued eyes two heat-seeking missiles aimed right at my tinder heart.

"Hey," he says casually, shoving his hands into the pockets of his beat-up bomber jacket.

It doesn't escape my attention he's chewing on his bottom lip. Does he taste as good as he smells? I'd wager yes. I shift back and forth on my feet. "I wasn't sure you'd still be here. Sorry it took me so long."

"You're worth waiting for." Crack. Robot activated. "For the record, I'm not happy how this is playing out. In fact, I'm mourning." His chin nods toward the parking lot. Guess that's my cue to follow.

"Mourning what?" I clench my fists at my sides as my chest flutters. Does he know?

"The loss of all my plans to change your mind." His dismal expression is meant to garner sympathy, but he's being smart, flirty even.

"Seems I'm not so hard a sell as projected." I shrug. "Be warned, shopping from the discount rack is problematic."

He nudges me with his elbow. "I got a bargain from where I'm standing." Crack. Robot armed.

He'll get more than he bargained for if he doesn't lay that hammer down, Superego tuts.

"Trust me, you can live without it."

"Can't."

I scoff. "Won't."

"Diverse venture capital." His expression is playful. "Like want and need."

I'm becoming painfully aware of the variance. I want to bridge the distance. I need to maintain the barrier, but my emotions are burning through it faster than I can rebuild.

"You don't realize how frugal a shopper I am." He slides his arm over my shoulder, pulling me closer. "Responsible stimulation of the economy is very important to me."

Sad fact: it's a seller's market, and this purchase includes delivery to my final flame-induced misfortune. I'd feel guilty for falsely advertising if I hadn't warned him repeatedly what he was buying.

Sliding into the passenger seat of his red Suburban, I struggle not to stare at him. "So...your sister."

"Yes...her."

"What's her name?"

"Kiley."

I reach for the window lever, finding it locked. As if reacting to my disappointment, it cracks slightly. Shame you missed last call on disapproving scowls, Superego commiserates.

"She's stoked for tonight. It's supposed to be a big show. Pyrotechnics and all."

Oh, the irony. My sparks are excited. They spread haphazardly, tearing slits where they skim my veins. I draw in a shuddering breath, attempting to stall the inevitable. Morning Glories and Sunshine waft past me on their journey out the open window, calming me down. Robot on standby.

"You cool?"

"I wish people would stop checking my temperature," I complain, folding my arms across my chest.