Unpredictable - (tristan evans)

Playing With Fire

She reluctantly woke the next morning, bleary mind desperately reaching out for the last shreds of numbing blank that sleep offered her. Sometimes she went to sleep wishing she wouldn’t wake up, but unfortunately today was not that day. Twisting herself further into her warm hideaway of bedsheets, she listened carefully for any sound of life stirring in the empty house, but found nothing.

“Fucking useless parents”, she grimaced, stretching to rid herself of the stiffness in her freezing joints. The window hung wide open, merciless frosty air carrying the icy promise of winter and the beginnings of heavy white clouds forming, a new snow on its way.

She swung her feet over the side of the bed, flinching slightly when bare skin met cold floorboard, but gritted her teeth and padded quietly to the swaying window. Looking out into the deserted street, she was just about to slam the glass shut when her sharp eyes picked up something small and bright, just hidden by the arms of a low bush stretched over it, shielding it. Shaking her head as she let the window swing shut with a loud creak, she decided to brush it off as nothing, just something dropped carelessly as someone walked past. Throwing on the nearest crumpled shirt she could see, she looked down at herself and laughed, smoothing out the worst of the wrinkles with careful fingertips and, spirits considerably lighter, ran down the stairs with her favourite band proudly printed across her front, grabbing a tattered bag before rushing out the door.

Once outside, she gasped and withdrew a little from the harsh cold but pressed on, towards the hellhole that people tried to pass off as a school. She knew better though. Out of the corner of her eye something glinted amongst the leaves and despite the cold, she stopped, tentatively crouching down and scanning the ground. A small lighter winked at her, shiny surface splattered with what appeared to be ink. Blood-red ink. She was suddenly reminded of the day before, the broken pen he- no, she wouldn’t let herself remember.

He had made it perfectly clear she meant nothing to him, and she certainly wasn’t about to let him see how much that had hurt. But even while every instinct screamed at her not to, she reached out and picked up the small, harmless thing, warming it between her hands. Standing up, she toyed with it as she walked, breath curling like delicate smoke from her parted lips, metal stud freezing in her tongue. She flicked it on and off as she neared the building looming up before her, watching numbly as the wavering flame spluttered violently, almost spitting fire at her unprotected fingers. A glimmer of a smile ghosted across her face as she let it graze her skin before pocketing it, sighing as she wearily tagged onto the end of a straggling group of students trudging across a frost-whitened lawn.

Those nearest her turned and seemed to recognise her, slowing until they were almost walking beside her. Almost, but not quite, still keeping a wary distance.

“Didn’t Tristan talk to you yesterday?”, the one on her right couldn’t hold in her curiosity, or jealousy. A tall, sneering blonde, disdainful eyes taking in her thin shirt, dirt-smeared boots.

“Tristan Evans?”, another butted in, unpleasantly high-pitched voice hurting her ears, “the Tristan Evans?!”

She simply stared down at her hands, fidgeting with the loose threads of her bag, silently willing them to fuck off and leave her in peace. She’d had enough of people like them trying to wriggle their way into her life, trying to unravel her innermost secrets, pretending to know her, understand her. No-one did, not even close.

The blonde flicked her hair again and suddenly she knew who she was, that hair stirring up some hidden memory. She was the girl who’d walked past his seat trying to get his attention, and failed miserably. A smirk twitched at the corners of her lips, earning herself a scorching glare from the girl, who’d obviously realised what she was thinking about. But they soon got bored of her silence and finally let her be, letting out a relieved sigh just as the first bell rang.