• BURN ME •

• 17 •

Sweater Weather

~ The Neighborhood

Snow

Flame gives me a curious look as we sit at the café table. I sigh. "So," he starts, "what did your cousin do to end up in Palm Springs jail?" I exhale heavily. "It's a long story." I hesitate, then begin to explain. "My aunt and uncle... They fight. Always have. Nathaniel and his sister grew up with it. Leo, my uncle, isn't easy to live with. They argued again, and Nath wanted to go to his sister to get away from it, but..." I trail off, shaking my head at the mess of it all. Flame nods slowly, his gaze intent. "What do they fight about?" he asks, crossing his arms, watching me. I click my tongue, feeling a familiar wave of resentment. "Money, love, cheating. The usual toxic family stew. Sometimes they argued about me too. Before boarding school, it was constant. My uncle... he couldn't stand me. Said I was too difficult, couldn't control me. Maybe also because he's bipolar." I run a hand through my hair, leaning back in my chair, the memories leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Flame looks surprised, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Bipolar?" he asks, his voice low. I nod once. "Yeah. Anger, listlessness, sometimes manic highs. And manipulative? Oh, he wrote the book on it. It's... complicated. My family is pretty... What do you always call it? Fucked up. Guess I fit right in, huh?" I force a smile, trying to make light of it, and take a sip of my drink, needing the distraction.

The redhead runs a hand through his own hair, his expression thoughtful. "Shit," he murmurs, just one word, but it feels heavy. I shrug, a practiced gesture of indifference. "Shit isn't the half of it. But it's my life, you know? Not exactly complaining." I say, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. "And you've known Sam for a long time?" I ask, shifting the focus, wanting to make sure Nathaniel was really in good hands. Flame nods slightly, a small, genuine smile finally touching his lips. And again, I'm struck by how good he looks when he smiles. Those dimples... I have an insane urge to reach out and touch them. "Yeah, Sam's always been there. Since I was a kid. Best friend of my father. But... he's more of a father to me than my own ever was. Mierda, I even lived with Sam for a while. Couldn't even look my father in the face. Sam and Mary, and my sister, and the other strays Sam picks up... they're my family." He explains, a warmth entering his voice when he speaks of them. I nod, trying to piece together his tangled family web. "Mary?" I ask, confused. Flame looks at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, right, you don't know her. Mary's Sam's wife." I nod again, slowly. "So... Levins and Nacho's mother?" The redhead shakes his head, correcting me. "Levins, yeah. Nacho, no. Nacho's biological mother divorced Sam when Nacho was two." He clarifies.

"Oh, okay," I murmur, processing the information. "Well, anyway. Nacho seems really nice. Reminds me a bit of my older brother. They'd probably get along." I pause, then take a breath, deciding to be bold. "Can I ask you something else?" I ask quietly, nervously fiddling with my cup. Flame takes another sip of his Coke, then just nods silently, his eyes fixed on me, waiting. "Why were you... hurt? Last time?" The question hangs in the air between us, thick with unspoken tension. My finger traces the rim of my cup, my gaze dropping, suddenly unsure of myself. Flame is silent for a long moment before finally answering, his voice low and even. "The first time? Was after I was at the factory." He looks me straight in the face, that unsettling, intense gaze holding mine, and then a slow, enigmatic smile spreads across his lips. What the hell is that supposed to mean? The factory? My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What is the factory?" Flame's grin widens, a hint of something almost... evil flickering in his eyes. "I'll take you with me next time," he says, the words a low, suggestive promise, "so you can see for yourself." Why can't he just tell me? Frustration flares, and I put my cup down with a little more force than necessary, crossing my arms defensively. Flame's grin softens slightly, but he remains stubbornly silent, that knowing, infuriating look still in his eyes, and I know, with a sudden, sharp certainty, that he won't be offering any more explanations anytime soon.