The Blue Blaze (Revised and Retold)

Chapter 4

Keith stares at the carpet floor, hunched over, tapping his foot repeatedly. "So. My best friend is a dragon."

"Well, I wouldn't say a dragon per se. I've never fully transformed." My exposed scales and eyes have already turned back to normal.

He looks up at me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared of your reaction." I sigh. "I didn't want you to think I was a freak or anything like that."

"Now, why would I ever call you that? I'd be surprised at most, but I would never call you a freak."

"You wouldn't tell anyone either?"

"I might've felt a little tempted, but I'd respect it if you didn't want me to." He grips his knees. "It's not like anyone would believe me anyway."

"Yeah... I'd prefer you didn't. Don't think a dissection table would be comfy." I lean back a tiny bit and put my hands behind my head.

"I won't. Not sure if I can say the same thing about Troy, though."

"Shoot. He did see me, didn't he?"

"You're acting pretty calm after being in a life-or-death fight."

I shrug. "Maybe it's my dragon-ish blood. Or maybe it's the adrenaline. Both? I don't know."

"Or maybe it's the fact you didn't kill anyone."

"...Maybe on some level, I did want to kill them. All of them. I don't think anyone would care much if they were to have died in that alley. I would've loved to make them suffer."

Keith looks at me with caution in his eyes and sits straight up. "Stop it. Stop thinking that way. That's how serial killers are born."

I sigh and look at the neat and tidy living room. "Those guys are probably gonna come back and finish what they started, aren't they?"

"Yeah, probably. I don't think he'd be ballsy enough to attack you again on the same day, though. You gave them a pretty good beating. And that was only by yourself."

"And I only got this." I point at the slit that's scabbed over.

"Good thing that's all you got, not a bullet."

"Don't know if my scales would be able to block that. Even if they did, the hot lead fragments would go in my eye anyway."

I look at my ripped shirt and frown. "I'll be back. Make yourself at home."

Walking into my room, I take off my shirt toss it to the floor and pick a new one from my closet. Looking into my mirror, I flex my bicep, noticing a small bump. "I don't think Muay Thai put much muscle on me, but I look leaner. No ripped abs, though. Shame," I say as I put on my new shirt. I trace where my scales were exposed from the slash. "...What am I?" I say out loud. Am I a person. Am I a dragon. Am I somewhere in between? I stare at myself in the mirror. "I guess I don't know myself as much as I thought I did."

As soon as I leave my room, I hear my mom's car drive in. She's early. It isn't anywhere close to 6. I look at Keith as I walk into the hallway leading to the living room. "Not a single word about the fight, got it?"
Keith nods as his gaze darts to the floor.

When I open the door, I see my mom with a small bucket of ice cream. Her face lights up when she sees me. "You're home early," I comment.
"They let us get out early today. How was school?" My mom hugs me.
"It was good. I wish it weren't the full period, though."
"Well, some schools can be like that. Oh, hi, Keith!" She waves at my friend.
"Hi, Ms. Duran. Is that ice cream?"
"Yup!" She sets the ice cream on the table. "You guys want some?"
We nod and grab some bowls and spoons.
"So what's the occasion?" I scoop a sizeable portion of cookies and cream into my bowl.
"Can't a mom get some ice cream just because?"
I look at her. "Not with us. We don't eat too many sweets unless it's pan dulce."
"I wanted to celebrate you getting past another semester. Just one more until you're off to college."
"Well, there's still summer. I hope you don't plan on kicking me out of the house and into college as soon as I turn eighteen."
"Of course not, Ethan!" My mom raises her eyebrows. "I'd be happy if you stayed here for your entire life after college. And when you find a wife, I can ask someone to build a room into the house."
I chuckle. "We'll see what happens."
My mom turns to my friend. "Do you like cookies and cream, Keith?"
Keith scoops a couple of balls into his bowl. "I like it alright. I think I like mint and chocolate chip the best, though."
"Apparently, people hate it because it tastes like toothpaste," my mom comments.
Keith shrugs. "I guess I like the taste of toothpaste then."
"Mom, some people hate cilantro because they think it tastes like soap. There's a bunch of crazies out there."
"True." She nods.