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I needed to sit down. Or puke. Or punch a hole in the wall. I needed to do something. Because my heart was racing and I tasted metal and I was just standing there staring at him and I couldn't move and I couldn't think and I was just stuck here. I was just stuck here. And I didn't understand.

Brendon's hand touched my shoulder and I didn't move to slap him away. I was frozen. Staring. Josh's face was blank, smooth except for the squint of his eyes. He looked at Brendon.

"Brendon," he said. "I thought you were just going to drop her off."

"I thought all the houses here would still be standing," Brendon said back. "Josh, what the hell?"

"I think you two should come inside."

I didn't move. "Where's my mother?"

"She's inside," said Josh. "Come on."

Feet like lead, I followed him. My skin was hot, and the air felt too close. When I went through the door, the smell of home tingled across my senses. I heard Brendon's breath hitch behind me. 

"I think you should stay out here," Josh said to him.

"No way," said Brendon. "No fucking way."

"This isn't your deal."

"My deal? This is Lake. Of course it's my fucking deal."

"She's not yours."

"She's not yours either!"

"I'm not anyone's!" I shouted, turning around to see them. Brendon was on the edge of the doorstep, Josh blocking him. "Stop talking about me like I only matter under your terms. Brendon, you were going to drop me off at the fucking doorstep and keep driving. You've got a lot of nerve to try and act like you care now."

"Lake, I --"

"Back off, dude," said Josh.

"But I want you to come," I said. "At least come and see what you were going to leave me with." 

The truth is that I was scared. Brendon's eyes were two darkening oceans, the waves curling into grief. He looked at me, then away. Josh stepped back. And we went into the house.

"Where's my mom?" I said again.

"Listen," said Josh. "She's in her room. But we need to explain some stuff to you first, so please just bear with us."

"Us?" I repeated.

Josh grimaced, closed the front door. He locked it. And gestured to the kitchen. 

Angie and Connor sat at the table, playing cards. They were gambling with matches.

"Look who finally showed up," said Angie.

"Don't even try with the power trip," I said back. "You may have beat me up, but I've talked to you before about your nipples."

"Aw, come on, Lake," said Angie. "We're friends. Don't be like this." Her eyes caught onto Brendon. "Brendon! How are you, babe?"

"Don't call me --"

"Not important," said Connor. "Lake, we're glad you're here."

"What's going on? Where's my mother?"

"She's upstairs, in her room. Just listen for a sec. We've all been worried sick about you."

Connor was talking, but he didn't sound like himself. He was a little too cold yet a little too friendly, at the same time. I tried to breathe.

"Your mom called us when you disappeared," said Connor. "She said you'd been kidnapped by a boy in an old car. Said we needed to help find you. The police wouldn't help because you were of age, or whatever. She was the only one who knew about your condition, see. Your little...problem."

"My little problem," I said softly.

"Yes." His voice dropped too. "Your little...fire problem."

I felt skeletons rise from the pockets of my heart. I felt branches breaking in my chest. 

"We couldn't get the authorities to help us, so we had to track you down ourselves," said Angie. "Luckily, we had your number. Your mom knew we had to use extreme methods to make sure you'd come home. We needed you to come back here so we could keep the people you were with safe. We didn't want you to...hurt anyone." 

The fury grew. 

Connor continued, "So I gave your mom my phone. She handled the messages, the story we constructed to bring you here...turns out Angie knew the person you drove off with, so she paid you all a little visit."

"On my way back, I ran into Josh," said Angie. "We met on the street and started talking. He came to stay here after he burned down the apartment."

"After -- after what?"

"Well, we knew you were bound to hurt someone," said Josh. "So I left the burner on when you all left for the concert. I brought us out to the rooftop so we wouldn't get hurt. It was a set up, I'll admit it, but it was a safe set up. It was a set up to make you realize you needed to come home. Connor was there too, remember? He met you out on the street."

"Oh my God."

I shoved away from Josh, from Angie, from Connor.

"There's nothing wrong with me! I never meant to set that fire. I haven't caused the fire -- the fire chases me!"

Connor stood up and grasped me by the elbow. "Let's go see your mother."

We ascended the stairs, knocked on the door.

I turned to him. "Why are all the houses in this neighborhood burned down?"

Connor smiled. "Accidents happen. But here's the thing...Josh burning that apartment, these little accidents, they really can't get out to the public ear."

"The police ear," said Angie, leaning against the wall.

My hand dove into my pocket, to find my phone was already in Josh's hand. Brendon lurched for it and Josh slammed it against his head. Brendon fell to his knees. My anger started to boil into a panic. 

"I don't understand," I said. "This was all to get me home. I'm home."

"Yeah," said Connor. "It was all to get you home. But when your mother started talking about getting the authorities involved...blaming Josh for his part in the plan..."

I looked to Josh, who flashed me a smile. 

"I don't understand," I said again. 

"Okay," said Connor. "Well, say hi to your mom for me."

"What?"

He swung open the door and shoved me forward. I crashed into the room, spotted my mother in the corner -- her arms tied, duct-tape over her mouth, her eyes bulging in terror.

"What?" I screamed. I whirled around and Brendon came tumbling into the room after me -- the door slammed shut and the lock scraped shut from the outside --

"I told you you should have stayed inside," Josh called out from behind the door, his voice sing-song. Brendon clambered to his feet and banged on the door. Voices collided and tangled, laughter and shouting from outside our new prison. My mother shrieked with her mouth taped shut. 

I threw myself to the ground and peered under the crack at the bottom of the door. Dark feet shifted. A foul smelling liquid gushed over the carpet. Gasoline.

Connor's voice rang out: "Welcome home!" 

He dropped a match. 

And the floor burst into flame.




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