THE FIRE SAGA

SPARK 29 - ASPIRATION

I'm nervous joining Tally. I've only been in her room once and didn't dare stay long enough to survey my surroundings. It's decorated in black and white. Would you expect anything else? There's a leopard print duvet on the oversized bed, and with amusement, I notice the red body pillow remains. When I lift a curious brow, she narrows her eyes. Probably best not to ask her why she kept it.

"First off, you need a shower," she grouses. "Not even the coarsest scrubby will take that horrible stench away, but that's not my issue. I can only work with what I have available. In your case, it isn't much."

She hands me a towel and shoves me into her en suite, shutting me in before I can make the slightest protest. "Don't get your hair wet," she calls through the door. "Declan's not here to blow it dry."

I intend to keep my hair dry as the queen commands, except I can't. She's right about the smell. It's like walking into a boy's locker room after gym. This super absorbent stink sponge requires washing. When I'm done, I towel myself off before wrapping the thick, almost blanket-like material around my body. I dry my hair the best I can.

"Are you kidding me? I asked you to do one thing."

"It smelled obscenely bad," I insist.

She's already chosen what she wants me to wear. Surprisingly, it isn't too formal, and it isn't a skirt. Yay! It's a pair of skinny jeans, a flowy blouse, and a black leather over-jacket. The boots are a tad intimidating. I'm still not used to a lift, but at least these have a thick wedge, so they won't get stuck in the mud.

"Get dressed," she commands. "We don't have time for your standard arguments. It'll take me forever to do your hair now."

Sighing dramatically, I do as I'm told while she organizes varying makeup containers on her vanity.

"That'll do." She plops me down on a chair.

She isn't gentle with my hair, but it doesn't exactly hurt. She's just pulling it a hundred ways. The movement happens so fast I can barely register one tug before another replaces it. After she's done, she stands me in front of the mirror to survey her efforts.

Huffing when I twist my head to examine the back, she produces a useful replica of me that works way better than a mirror. "You're getting good at being me. I'm starting to suspect you like it."

"Your lack of personality makes it easy."

There are several braids all twisting together in the back. "It's pretty," I admit.

"Obviously. I prefer it down, but you have a hearing problem."

"I don't have a hearing problem."

A listening problem, Superego notes unhelpfully.

"It's safer up, anyway," she concedes.

"Safer?"

She grins wickedly. "You're in for a treat, Fire-starter."

"Oh no!" She's going to make me start the fire sans matches. "That's a horrible idea."

"Don't fret. The fire will be blazing before anyone gets here. This will be the highlight of my night."

"I bet Barry will be a more exciting highlight. He's coming, right?"

"He is." She puts powder on my cheeks, but not enough it's noticeable. "I'll be up here, though."

"You mean you still haven't really been around him?" I tilt my head, and she aggressively forces it back into a straight position. Clearly, I've struck a nerve.

"No."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of stupid questions for someone who's supposedly smart."