FIRE [FIRST DRAFT]

Prologue: The First Dance

Aimee and I were sitting on my couch, watching the first Twilight film – the fact that she had never seen it, hurt me a little. It was on short notice, but I'd known she was coming, and I wished I'd cleaned up or cooked or something! I was more focused on the week-old clothes piled up inside the laundry room than the movie.

I stared at the laundry's open door, desperate to lock it and bury the key (beneath the mountain of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink). I wasn't a slob, in fact, I was a clean freak, but Domino Doomsday was ceaselessly drawing nearer and I wasn't gonna spend my hours spring-cleaning when I could train instead. Celeste and I had a common understanding of that. She had been training longer hours than I had, I barely saw her at home anymore.

While Aimee attended to the TV screen, I hastened over to the laundry door to close it. When I glanced back over my shoulder, still turning the door key, she was watching me.

"I don't mind that you're place is messy, Gavin," she said in that honest and humble tone of hers.

I was too embarrassed to think of a response, so I just smiled. She gave me a light smile in return and went back to the television screen, but I could soon tell by her expression that she was confused by something – sparkling vampires? So, I stepped towards my CD rack beside my radio and browsed through my collection.

"Do you wanna do something else?" I queried, while shuffling through various CD cases.

"Uhm, okay," she uttered, surprised by my suggestion. "You don't wanna finish the movie?"

"Nah, I've seen it, like, five times, so..." I blushed.

As she laughed – not mockingly, but amazed – and turned off the TV, I placed one of my Safteysuit albums into the stereo and played the song Annie. And I sang along, decidedly alternating the lyrics slightly.

"There was a girl named Aimee, she had a very pretty face," I continued, taking her hand for a dance, which I'm grateful she didn't reject. "Don't tell anyone I sing," I joked, and then trailed back into the song's melody, aware that my voice was only half as good as Doug Brown's... okay, maybe more than half.

When the beat picked up, I led her across the floor in a lively waltz, and she laughed because she had no idea how to do the dance, but that didn't matter. It wasn't romantic, we weren't too close. I kept singing, aloud and proud in a not-so-professional manner, and she continued to giggle. We were just goofing off, but before we knew it, she slipped, and in one motion I caught her and hoisted her towards me. Before I knew it, we were close.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and my words were slow as I realised that our noses came into contact.

We were frozen, as if our sudden lack of physical distance had reset us like robots. We were unsure of how to react, of what to do with the forceful whirlwind of emotions that hit us, or me. Safetysuit echoed me with the lyrics: I always have to stop myself, 'cause you're beautiful. These words dragged across my mind. I could not admit to my feelings. I had before, back in the Arena, but that kiss just happened. I wasn't me, not then.

I always have to stop myself.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, pulling away.

She watched me mutely as I made my way out the front door, gracelessly combing my fingers through my hair. I was frustrated, deflated? I wasn't too sure. I leaned my weight against the wooden door that was our new divider. I thought I had gotten over her, thought that by accepting how perfect she was for my best friend I could dismiss whatever feelings I had for her. And then there was Celeste. My roommate was a living reminder of Aimee, but did I hate that about her? Was it a bad thing if I didn't? I'd lived with her for months. There was something there. Or was that a conjuration of my mind? I had encountered Celeste first, and yet I couldn't tell whether I liked her because she looked like Aimee, or liked Aimee because she looked like her. Still, my love for them was deeper than the skin.

I sat down on the step and let my head fall back against the door. I started thinking maybe I just needed a little fresh air to clear my noggin. It was worth a try. Defeated – that's what I was – I sighed and let the minutes to roll by me.