Fire Burning

And Still, I Stayed.

The morning after felt like silence in a hurricane. The kind of quiet that comes right before something breaks. Riley had been calm, even gentle. He made breakfast, brought me coffee just how I liked it—two sugars, splash of milk, no cream. He kissed my forehead while I stared at the fridge like it might give me answers. I didn't speak much. I barely touched my food. But he didn't push. Not this time.

"You look beautiful today," he said as I slid into the passenger seat of his truck.

I mumbled a thank you.

He reached over and laced our fingers together like nothing had happened. Like yesterday wasn’t still wrapped around my throat. I stared out the window and counted power lines until we pulled into the school lot.

The second we stepped into the hallway, I felt the eyes. A shift in the air. Like whispers had been waiting for me to arrive. Jeremy saw us first, across the hall near his locker. He straightened when he saw me. I looked away.

The day crawled. First hour passed in a blur. In second, Riley had his arm around me the entire time. He tapped his fingers against my ribs. Asked me if I was okay. Kissed my hair.

I told myself it was love.

By lunch, my chest ached from holding it all in.

The cafeteria was its usual chaos—plastic trays, loud voices, the sharp scent of fries and anxiety. Riley walked ahead of me, holding my hand tight as we approached our usual table. Addie and Aristotle were already sitting. Jeremy trailed in behind us.

Addie smiled at me, soft and uncertain. I tried to return it.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked, quiet, just for me.

I didn’t answer. Riley was watching.

We sat. The conversation drifted to the bonfire coming up. Who was bringing what. Who was sneaking drinks. Who could out-chug who.

I barely heard any of it. My head was pounding. My skin felt too tight.

"You good, Em?" Jeremy asked from across the table.

I nodded too fast. "Yeah. Just tired."

"She’s fine," Riley said, sharper than before.

The table went quiet.

Jeremy frowned. "I was just asking."

"And I said she’s fine."

Riley's hand slid under the table and clamped around my thigh. Hard.

I jumped.

Addie saw.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and tense. "Maybe chill."

Riley turned his glare on her. "Maybe mind your business."

"Don't talk to her like that," Aristotle said, his voice quiet but tight. The kind of calm that comes right before something explodes.

That was when the teacher on lunch duty passed by. She paused near our table, eyes flicking over us.

"Everything alright here?"

Before I could open my mouth, Riley stood.

"Yeah, everything’s great. Except people don’t know when to shut the fuck up."

The room stilled. Chairs scraped. Heads turned. The noise of the cafeteria fell flat like a balloon popped mid-air.

Jeremy stood slowly, measured. "Don’t talk to her like that."

Riley's jaw locked. He stepped forward, fast.

Aristotle rose next, knocking his chair backward. "Back off, man."