Ignite

Chapter 15

The next day after school, I lined up for the bus to Pitt Street Mall instead of the one heading home.

It'd been Sylvia's idea. She'd decided over the weekend that a good route to recovery was for Jake and I to immerse ourselves in the city while rediscovering old hobbies. So, she'd sent us to Pitt Street Mall with $70 in each of our pockets.

I wasn't unhappy about this. From the moment I'd walked back into school this morning, I'd realised my dramatic exit from Heather's party on Friday hadn't gone unnoticed. And I'd spent the second Monday in a row being followed by stares and whispers.

Consequently, a packed bus heading in the opposite direction to my classmates wasn't the worst thing in the world.

When Jake shows up, he looks worn out, the way he always does when school ends. His mouth is down-turned and his eyes closed off, but when he sees me, he summons a small smile.

"Cute," he says, pointing at the birds-nest atop my head, curtesy a-la-wind.

I frown. "Shut up."

"Oi, Cairns!"

We both turn to find Harper strolling over to us. Like Lewis, he's tall enough to tower over all, and the other students in line dart out of the way as he slides in behind us.

"That's called line cutting, Harper," I say.

"No shit, Claudia. Emmy mention me today?"

"No."

"Disappointing. I'm glad to see you're alive, though. No more panic attacks over the weekend, I hope?"

His comment is off-handed and indifferent enough that Jake's eyes harden again, the over-protective brother mode kicking in. But before he can speak, Harper has turned his attention to him.

"Are you as good with a soccer ball as your sister is?"

Jake blanches and then glances at me. "What?"

"We need a new centre-mid. Andrew's gone and torn his quad. You interested?"

Jake hesitates, and I can tell he's about to brush Harper's offer aside, to say he's got too much on right now.

"Yeah, he's interested," I blurt out before Jake can reply. "He's great too. Topped the comp for goal count last year."

Jake frowns at me.

"Claude—"

"Well, it's true," I say. "Soccer used to be your entire life. You should try playing again."

Jake hesitates a moment longer; an internal battle raging — one of indecision and uncertainty, one he never would've had in the past.

So, I decide to deliver the killing blow.

"Sylvia would want you to."

That does it. Jake sighs and Harper grins.

"Awesome. Trials are tomorrow at 3:30. Bring your boots."

...

When we pull up at Pitt Street Mall, Jake and I head to the buskers first, grabbing a gelato that starts melting within seconds.

There's five or six performers along the lane, but we drift towards a group of children who are circled around their father, singing, their voices melding and weaving until the melody is smooth as water.

People press in around them, breathing in their air, and when the wall of limbs becomes too much, we head into Rebel Sport so Jake can check out the soccer gear. He looks at one pair of shin pads and then another before deciding there's no point buying anything now because he'd have to come back tomorrow for shoes.

I frown, but it slips Jake's notice, and he walks out into the lane, looking around the massing people and the towering buildings.

I follow him towards a new busker who is just setting up when I spot a bookshop.

For a moment, I stand there, unsure. Books had always been an escape for me, they'd let me move between worlds without leaving my bedroom. But their magic had crumbled the moment I really needed them — the moment silence and stillness had become tainted with red.

Jake appears beside me, following my gaze.

"Go on," he says. "There's no harm looking."

I glance at him, unsure.

"Do you want to look too?"

"Nah, I enjoy people watching. I'll wait for you out here."

I walk into the bookshop cautiously, waiting for the fire to come. Only it doesn't. Instead, the smell of paper and wooden shelves overwhelms me.

If I closed my eyes, I could almost believe I was back home right now, standing in the entrance to Mr Tracey's second-hand bookshop. I would feel the soft tread of carpet beneath my feet, hear the tinkle of the wind chimes as the breeze rushed into the shop through the opening door.

But then someone shoves past me and the illusion shatters — slamming me back into the present, into the hum of voices and honk of horns.

I jerk forward and disappear amongst the classics section, hoping no one noticed my strange behaviour. Soon, the line of titles distract me and I run my fingers along their spines, pulling out volumes that catch my eye before placing them back again.

I'm not sure how long I spend in there before I find three books I think I'll enjoy — a horror, a thriller and a fantasy — all praised for being suspenseful, action-heavy page turners.

I hand over fifty dollars to the cashier and walk out of the store with a strange, tingly excitement creeping through my stomach.

The tingles diminish somewhat when I can't find Jake outside, though.

I scan the crowds and am reaching for my phone when I spot him, talking with a guy who looks too slick to be at Randwick Boys High. Despite the heat, he wears a jacket, and as he gestures, sunlights gleams off gold chains around his wrists.

I approach them slowly, pricking my ears to catch what they're saying, but Jake sees me before I can get close enough to eavesdrop. He shoots me a grin and gives the guy a rough pat on the arm before breaking away and coming towards me.

"Got some books?" he asks when he reaches me.

His eyes are bright and distracted, flicking around the street.

"Yeah." I glance over his shoulder at the guy he'd been talking to. "Who's that?"

"He's just a friend of Lewis's. I met him the other day."

"Oh," I say, feeling foolish for the curiosity churning inside me — the growing suspicion that maybe while I'd been in the bookshop Jake had been returning to some old habits too.

"Do you wanna head off now?" Jake asks.

"Yeah, I suppose. Are you sure you don't want to buy anything?"

Jake grins at me. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm planning on stealing those books of yours, anyway."

"Of course you are," I say, but I let him turn me around and steer me in the direction of the bus stop.

It's only when he isn't looking that I glance back, scanning the streets for the guy he'd been talking to. But the space where they'd stood is empty, and in the rush of people, I can't see where he might've gone. 

...

Next chapter out in a week :)

- Skylar xx