Fire and Matches

Part 1

Of course, I, Gray Simmons, had to be there when the old mansion went up in flames. Holding matches. And after coming back from three years in reform school for a crime I didn't commit, I came back, expecting no one to want to be around me. But then I met the mystery called Misty Jennington.

The school bus pulled away, and I coughed and sat on the bench to wait for my dad. A girl sat down beside me, with bright blue eyes and long blonde hair, almost white. Bright pink lips. She looked over to me.

"I'm Misty Jennington! Who are you waiting for?" she asked me, examining her bright purple fingernails. "I'm waiting for my uncle. He's pretty nice."

"I'm waiting for my dad. I just got back from—" I held off, and winced at almost revealing that I kind of went to jail. "Where? Where?" Misty asked excitedly. I smiled weakly at her enthusiasm.

"I just came back from a trip to Turkey with my long lost brother, Marcus." Good one, Gray.

"That's cool. I, oh, I guess I shouldn't tell you anymore, 'cause we haven't even met up yet! God, we need to!" She was pretty perky for being my age: twelve. "Do you have a book?" I nodded, and she rummaged around in my bag. She pulled out a Percy Jackson book, and suddenly ripped out a piece of page 113. "Hey!" I shouted, but then laughed. She wrote her phone number down, then handed the ripped paper back to me.

"Call my parents sometime!"

This time, the matches were in my stomach.

My dad pulled up, waving his hand for me to get in. Misty looked at the car, then me again, and waved lightly. "See you later, Flamer!" I knew it was a nickname, but I still kind of stung...