It Burns Within Us | Wildfire Series Book 1

T W O

B R E N

Shaking my head, I tried to put Madie out of it.

My leftover pizza was all I needed in my life.

I took a bite of it and walked lazily back down to my dorm room, letting my feet slide across the tiled floor. As I grew closer to room 311, booming house music leaked into the hallway. Classes hadn't even started yet, and someone was already throwing a party.

I stopped and stared at the door to my room, hypnotic beats vibrating beneath my feet.

Apparently that someone was my roommate.

I bit into my pizza again and then pushed my way into the small space. The guy inside had his back to me, busy putting away his clothes in the small wooden dresser we'd been given. He was nodding to the music, lost completely in the little club he'd created in our shitty dorm room.

"Hey!"

I had to yell to be heard over the music.

He whirled around.

"Oh shit, hey man." He instantly dropped his perfectly folded clothes onto the floor so he could turn down the tunes on his computer.

I knew his name was Beau Martin from the letter I'd received in the mail from Oakland State. My first impression of Beau was that he was a chill Asian dude. He wore a shit-eating grin, a simple white tee, and sweatpants that were pushed up around his calves.

"You must be Bren," he said, extending his hand.

I slapped my own hand against his before tucking our knuckles together.

"You must be Beau," I replied. "When did you get here?"

I only left the room like ten minutes ago, and he'd been nowhere in sight then.

"Just a few minutes ago. I walked by you in the commons, but I don't think you noticed." His eyebrows shot up and down once, accompanied by the tilt of his mouth that told me he knew exactly why I hadn't noticed him walking by.

Clearing my throat, I tried not to react. "Yeah, I didn't see you."

Beau folded his arms across his chest and leaned against his bedpost. "Madie Lenertz, though?"

"You know her?" My words came out quick. Too eager. I tried to cover my interest by ducking my head and walking to my bed, jumping on top of it. I set my pizza box down on the bedside table.

"I don't know her," Beau replied. "But I was hanging out at this freshman social thing, and she was there with her boyfriend. The dude is on the football team and was already broing around, acting like he owns the place. I introduced myself, but they definitely didn't seem interested in knowing me."

"I didn't know bro could be used as a verb," I said, chuckling. Then I kicked back, leaning against the cold wall next to my bed.

"You'd understand if you were there." Beau turned around, grabbing more of his clothes to fold and stuff into drawers. "Anyway, Madie was glued to his hip the entire time."

I sunk even lower, tilting my head back, staring at the fluorescent bulbs again. These ones weren't flickering.

"Madie seems nice," I said. I didn't know why I said it.

Beau shrugged. "She probably is. But I didn't get the vibe that she does anything without her boyfriend. And hanging out with football players isn't my scene."

Suddenly curious, I turned to look at him. "What's your scene, Beau?"

He laughed a little as he tried to fold another pair of sweatpants. How many pairs of sweatpants did this dude have? "I don't know, man. Somewhere with nice ass people, vibing music, and good drinks."

I considered that, sneaking a peek at my stack of vinyls sitting on my desk. Something told me that my idea of vibing music and Beau's idea of vibing music weren't the same. But still. "I could get on board with that scene."

"You know how some people are foodies?" He glanced at me over his shoulder. "Like they go out to eat to get a fifty-dollar tiny portion of mushroom risotto and then say they're cultured?"

"Kind of?" I honestly didn't know very many people like that.

"Yeah, well, I'm a drinkie."

"A drinkie?"

"I'm a self-proclaimed snob when it comes to drinks. I like the good stuff. And not just alcohol, either. Dude, I'll blow my money on that expensive latte without thinking twice."

"I can't afford good drinks or good food," I said. "I think the last time I got drunk was off of some cheap vodka my friend smuggled out of their parent's cupboard."

I didn't include that the friend in question was a kid on my high school soccer team who I didn't even really like, and I was only invited to that party out of obligation. I didn't really do friends. Actually, it was the other way around. No one wanted to hang around someone with a reputation like mine.

Thank God Beau knew nothing about it. I was hoping that college would finally be my escape.

He stopped what he was doing to stare at me. "No, man."

"What?" I laughed. "We're in college. How am I supposed to afford anything else?"

Beau's movements slowed, and I considered that maybe Beau and I had come from different worlds. College had a way of clashing people together like that, didn't it?

"Are you loaded or something?"

Tact had never really been something I was good at.

My roommate went back to unpacking, shaking his head. But he didn't meet my gaze.

"Nah, not really," he said. "My parents do pretty good for themselves, but I'm not spoiled. I worked a ton in high school. You name it, I did it. Stocked groceries, delivered papers, worked in kitchens. I can afford some good drinks."

Alright, respect to that.

"I was a cashier at my local grocery store," I said. "I probably could have worked more, though, because I'm still ridiculously broke."

"Don't worry," Beau said. "I'll hook you up with the best stuff." He put the last of his clothes away and shut the dresser drawer before hopping on his bed. "Where you from?"

"Near Fresno. You?"

"Sacramento."

It must have been midnight by the time Beau finally stopped asking me questions. I wasn't really much of a talker, but I didn't want to shut out my roommate on the first night at college. Beau was probably my one shot at a friend.

My first shot had already fell through, after all.

Now the room was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the chatter before. I stared at the ceiling, tracing the faint cracks in the off-white paint. Even though it was late, it was hard to bring myself to close my lids. Whenever I did, I saw that last look of her guarded eyes.

Madie.

I knew that look—the one of secrets and hidden fires and slivers of something forfeited, something lost.

I knew that look.

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Thanks for reading chapter 2 of It Burns Within Us! I'm excited to introduce Madie's POV in the next chapter!