Playing With Fire

Chapter 7-9

Chapter 7

That night I dreamed.

Reid and I are on the Ferris wheel, only the park is empty, eerily still against the veil of darkness. There's a sound, a low, rhythmic heartbeat sound that seems to make the air around us contract with each beat. We aren't moving, just sitting at the very top, the metal rail across my lap holding me in place. Reid has his fingers in my hair, his body presses firmly against mine as our mouths connect. Then there's a feeling, an odd, tugging inside my mind as if someone is watching me, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I pull back and Reid trails kisses down my neck, ignoring me as I pull back, searching for a face in the darkness. Praying it isn't Oliver, I squint, scanning the tangle of sidewalks below us. Please, not Oliver, I think. The idea of him seeing me kissing Reid is making me frantic, though I'm not completely sure why.

Finally, my eyes lock onto the single upturned face. It's Georgia, Oliver's sister.

She's standing beneath us, pointing at me and shouting, but even though there is no other sound, I can't hear her. Leaning further away from Oliver, I strain to hear her, to try to make out the curve of her mouth hoping to guess at her words, but it's no use. I turn back to Reid, looking for help, but he's gone. Now alone in the darkness, I sit, paralyzed with fear as the tiny cart rocks precariously, the unseen press of the heartbeat growing until I can feel it in my bones.

Georgia is gone now, too, I realize dreamily. Carefully sliding out from under the bar, I climb down the side of the ride, jungle-gym style. It feels like I'm descending forever. My arms ache, sweat rolls down my face and stings my eyes. How tall is this damn thing? Looking down, I see a new face staring up at me. My mother, her long hair billowing around her face, is looking up at me, disappointment in her eyes. I try to cry out to her. Help me! I shout inside my head, no voice passing my lips. Georgia walks over and my mother puts a hand on her shoulder as she points up at me, saying something I can't hear.

Tears burn my eyes. I fumble through the bars, nearly losing my grip. Near the bottom of what was now a dangerously high ladder, my foot slips. I start to fall when a hand shoots down from above me and latches onto my arm. When I looked up, it's Oliver's smiling face above me. He's saying something that sounds like "I've got you." Suddenly Reid is beside him, his hand clamping onto my other arm. A crack of lighting streaks across the sky, blinding me for a heartbeat before the rolling boom of thunder echoes in my ears. Rain begins to pour, cold and stinging my bare flesh. The boys fight to hold me, tugging me back and forth between them. I try to scream but it's swallowed by another roll of thunder. My arms wet, the rain rolls off me and I slip from both their grips. The last thing I remember is falling into an abyss of dark, churning water.

***

The next morning I wake up to my father's voice. "Get up, sleepyhead, breakfast!"

Groaning, I kick my covers off, slip into my fluffy purple robe and shuffle to the kitchen, fully prepared to complain about being summoned so early on a Saturday. But as I round the corner, I freeze, taking a good ten seconds to process what I see. My father is fully dressed in his uniform, a camouflage apron that reads grillmaster in white letters tied over it. He's serving a stack of fresh pancakes to someone seated at our table. Though part of me recognized him even from the back of his head, it's not until he turns and catches sight of me that the real horror sinks in.

Oliver.

With a very girlie yelp I spin and press my back against the hallway wall. Laughter rolls out from the other room from both of them. Part of me wants to stride back in, chin up, and pretend I don't care that he's just witnesses my bed-head and ratty grey pajama pants. The other part of me really wants to go brush my teeth and put on a bra.