Fire and flashbacks
573 Words
It all went to hell on a Wednesday.
The week had been a pressure cooker—people whispering, phones snapping photos behind backs, and that damn gossip page lighting up with cryptic posts about “runaways” and “violent pasts.” Everyone acted like they weren’t reading it, but we all knew better.
By the end of the school day, Elara hadn’t said a word.
Not to me. Not to anyone.
I found her outside, sitting alone on the steps behind the east building where the janitors smoked during lunch breaks. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. For the first time, she looked less like the girl building walls and more like someone trying not to fall apart.
“Elara,” I said softly, stepping closer.
She didn’t look up.
“They trashed my locker,” she said. “Wrote Liar on the door. Someone dumped red paint all over my books.”
My jaw tightened. “Was it him?”
She shrugged. “Does it matter? He doesn’t have to lift a finger. He just has to whisper. People want someone to burn.”
I sat next to her, close enough to touch, but I didn’t. “Then let them try. They’re not going to touch you.”
She turned to look at me—really look at me. Her eyes weren’t just angry now. They were scared.
“Kade… I didn’t tell you everything.”
I stayed quiet.
“Back in New York—before I disappeared—Jaxon wasn’t just controlling. He was dangerous. He said if I ever left him, he’d ruin me. Not just my name. My future. My life.”
She took a shaky breath.
“I ran. Stayed with a girl I barely knew for four days, turned off my phone, cut off everything. My mom found me by accident. And when I told her the truth, she said maybe I’d misunderstood him. That maybe I provoked it.”
That cracked something inside me.
“Elara,” I said, my voice low but steady, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”
She didn’t cry, but her lip trembled like she was seconds from breaking.
Suddenly, a shout echoed from the field nearby. Micah came sprinting around the corner, breathless.
“You guys—someone just lit a trash can fire in the locker hallway. Staff’s clearing the building.”
“What?” I stood up. “Why?”
He glanced between us, then hesitated. “Your name’s on the wall, Kade. Right next to Elara’s.”
We both froze.
“Looks like they want to pin this on you,” he added.
It was like someone poured cold water down my back.
We ran to the building, but security had already roped it off. Smoke curled from the back hallway windows, and through the crowd I spotted what Micah meant—spray paint in angry red across the brick wall:
“TRASH FINDS TRASH. THEY BOTH BURN.”
I heard someone whisper, “Isn’t that the new girl? The one with the runaway story?”
“Didn’t she date that Reece guy?”
And just like that, I knew we were past rumors now.
This was retaliation. This was war.
Elara’s hand slipped into mine—tight, trembling.
“Don’t let them win,” she whispered.
I looked at her, heart thudding in my chest.
“They won’t.”
- Writer
