Slowly Burning ~ Madeline Prine Series ~ Book 1

Chapter 1: Madaline

Logan, Utah. A place for dreamers, a place for geeks who will obviously go nowhere in life except ComiCon, a place for social outcasts. A place for retired old men who think that golf is the best thing since sliced bread, a place for lazy people that only ever Netflix and Chill, a place for super stressed college students who only leave the house to get caffeine. Logan is open to pretty much anyone. Well, anyone except me.

Hi. My name is Madeline Prine, and I was leaving Logan in the passenger's seat of an old, yellow van from the 70s.  My dad, Jeff, was staring at the road hard as he drove me to the airport. I could see the pain twisted in his face as he brought me closer and closer to my new life. A life away from boring, old Utah, our moldy, rat-infested house, and him.

I adjusted my purple fleece jacket and my big, black sunglasses, which both hid my dangerous secret, as I pulled back my black and bright red hair into a ponytail. The sun was high, and it was warm, forcing me to take every precaution so that my pale skin doesn't turn bright red with sunburn.

Jeff slowed down and turned into a parking lot. He parked in the spot closest to the doors. I looked up at the building hovering over us. We had stopped at a rest stop only five minutes away from the airport. I looked at him with a look of confusion.

"I'm hungry," he said in a low, hoarse voice. His eyes looked pained, as if he didn't want to do this. I knew he didn't.

"Can't we just get food at the airport?" I asked, knowing the real reason why we were here. "Plus, we have stopped at a lot of rest stops already! At this rate, we could be late for the flight!"

He paused, looking for a straw to draw. Then he smiled. "Have you tasted the food at the airport? It's horrible!" He chuckled, some happiness coming to his eyes for the first time since Jen died. It quickly faded, though, when he stepped out of the car and started towards the rest stop. I followed quickly.

It wasn't that spacious or luxurious. It was a few small restaurants with about 10-15 tables and chairs in the center. The bathrooms were to the right, and the shop was to the left. All the walls were unpainted brick, and all the windows were small. We decided for some McDonald's. After we ordered, we sat at a small table, clearly fit for only two people. As I waited for my bean burrito, I made sure that everything was covered. There was no one there except the employees, but hey, you never know.

A teenage boy with crimson hair with a big name tag stating that his name was Neal came over with our food and smiled. I guessed being nice was part of his job. He set down Jeff's fish sandwich and fries, but Jeff didn't do as much as look at him. He handed me my bean burrito and fries, he looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I was wearing sunglasses indoors, but instead said in a voice lower than I expected it to be, "I like your orange streaks."

"Thank you," I said monotonously.

Neal stared at me for a second, then shrugged and left. I wondered what went through his mind. I shrugged myself, then turned to my meal wrapped in paper.

I chewed my burrito, tasting all the grease. I looked over at Jeff, who hadn't touched his fish sandwich and fries. I reach over and grabbed one of his fries, but he doesn't say anything. He usually is very protective of his food. Jeff just stared at me, memorizing what I looked like as I swallowed his tiny fry whole. I took a sip of my happy meal milk, then looked at him straight in the eyes. "Jeff, I know you don't want me to leave."

Jeff snapped out of his trance and looked at me. "What are you talking about? I'm doing what's best for you."

"Yes, but you are stalling. You're pretty obvious."

He sighed. "I don't want to lose you like I did your mother. You're so young."

"I'm 14! And I'm not going to die like Jen did!"