Touch The Fire

5 : In The Dark

" She didn't dim her light because it was weak—she hid it because the world wasn't ready to see her burn. "

***

Although my vision's still a little blurred, I can make out the dark figure sprinting toward me, and panic rushes in. Fear churns through the leftover rage swirling inside me. It's only been a few days, and someone's already caught me out. I scramble backwards, frantically looking for something to use as a weapon, when a small, familiar voice cuts through the noise in my head.

"Breathe, Clara," Margot says gently, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her hand stretches out. "I got your pills. It's okay, you're going to be okay."

I grab the bottle from her trembling fingers, pop the cap, and dry-swallow one of the small pills. Almost instantly, I start to settle. My breathing evens out, and the heat that was boiling under my skin begins to fade. I close my eyes, letting the pill work its magic, and then glance over at Margot, and my heart sinks.

She's terrified. I hate that look in her hazel eyes, like they're about to burst out of her head. I hate the way her small shoulders shake and the shallow gasps she's struggling to control. She's seen me lose it before, too many times, but that doesn't make it any less horrifying.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, pushing myself upright. My whole body feels like it's been through a blender. "Did you hear anything... from the hallway?"

She shakes her head. "No. I didn't think you were losing control until I opened the door..."

How? I didn't hold back. Not even a little. My emotions completely took over.

"I'm gonna head back to the party," Margot says, her voice gaining a bit of strength now that I've calmed down. "Some people are starting to leave, so the party should be over in, what, max two hours? right?"

I nod, but my head hangs for a long moment. Expelling that much power at the rate I did, has left my body in all sorts. I try to stand, but my muscles are weighed down with fatigue. They're sluggish, shaky and an unsettling coolness has slithered under my skin.

I need sugar. Fast.

"Do you need more time alone?" Margot helps me to stand, guiding my arm over her shoulder. making herself a human crutch. A small one at that.

"I'm alright." I lean on her as we walk back out into the hallway, my legs weak and aching with every step. "I'm gonna grab something to eat, then crash. Will you be okay?"

She nods, tells me she has a friend she wants to hang out with before she leaves, and heads back toward the main room. I watch her go, my stomach twisting. Friends, I think. I should probably go say goodbye to Justine and Dylan.

I head for the food table, stuffing macaroons into my mouth like they're medicine. The sugar hits instantly, sending a jolt of energy through my limbs. I grab an assortment of treats and make my way through the crowd, spotting Dylan and Justine outside on the back deck, talking beneath a canopy of fairy lights.

Weaving through a few lingering adults, I slip out through the French doors. The night air is crisp against my skin, and for a moment, I just stand there, watching them. I swear I hear my name in their conversation.

"Everything alright?" I ask, stepping closer and biting into a fourth macaroon.

"Jesus Christ!" Justine jumps, nearly dropping her drink. Dylan just chuckles.

"Why didn't you tell me she was coming?" she snaps at him, and he shrugs. Casual as always.

"Because, seeing you caught off guard fills me with the purest joy." His mouth stretches into a wide grin.

Justine scoffs and shoves his shoulder, sending him back a few steps. Soft chuckles escape his lips, earning an eye roll from a pair of deep brown eyes.

"We're alright," Dylan says, turning to me. "Are you okay?"

The easy answer is yes, but when his deep blue eyes meet mine, I know he won't buy it. There's something about the way he sees people. It's unnerving, like he's got some kind of psychic gossip radar. He's basically the Gretchen Wieners of Wildecliff.

"Yeah. Just needed some sugar." I hold up my stash with a sheepish smile. "Turns out moving your entire life in a few days takes it out of you."

"I mean, I've never moved anywhere," Justine says, snatching a caramel candy, "but I can imagine. We have so much s**t it's insane!"

We all laugh, and for a second, it feels normal. Easy.

"What are you guys doing out here anyway?" I ask, glancing up at the stars and then down to the still lake below.

"I wish we could say we're out here to admire the view," Dylan starts.

"But we're really here to make sure those idiots don't drown in the lake," Justine finishes, nodding toward the jetty.

I squint. A few bodies are dancing in the moonlight, a dinghy bobbing at the end of the dock. "Is that..."

"Jake, Tate, and their followers," Dylan and Justine say in perfect sync.

That simmering rage from earlier stirs in my chest again, but the pill dulls it to something more manageable, annoyance, mostly. I watch them, drunk and dancing, swigging from the same black flask I saw earlier. Are they even playing music? Who dances in silence?

Just as I turn to make a joke, I spot a familiar flash of red. Lucinda. Her flame coloured hair bobs through the crowd as she approaches the French doors, trailed by a gaggle of people.

Without thinking, I grab Justine and Dylan and drag them down the stairs. I do not want to face my stepmother right now. Justine resists a little, but Dylan lets me lead him, his curiosity piqued. I can tell he's already enjoying whatever chaos I'm about to bring.

"Look who's finally come to join the party," Tate spreads his arms like he's the second coming. "Speaking of, your family really knows how to throw one."

"Shut up and get down!" I hiss, dropping into a crouch at the edge of the jetty.

The others exchange confused looks, but Jake follows my gaze and spots the adults on the deck, Lucinda front and centre. His eyes flick back to me, and without question, he yanks the copper haired girl beside him to the ground. The rest follow his lead.

"There." Jake jerks his chin toward the boat shed. More of a cabin, really.

We sprint across the lawn, slipping inside just as the deck floods with grown ups. Dylan flicks on the single light bulb hanging in the center of the ceiling, revealing an unfinished man cave, my dad's first project.

Sierra, the girl Justine warned me about, drags Jake to one of the couches, and everyone else follows. I suddenly recognise her. She was the one with him by the car. They're probably a couple. Makes sense. They're both very good looking individuals.

I peek through the curtain. Lucinda's waving her arms around dramatically, showing off her plans for the landscaping like she's designing the Versailles gardens. No one noticed us bolt. We're safe.

Sierra looks up from her perch on the couch, her smile wide and glowing like a spotlight. "Hey, you're Clara, right?"

Her voice is warm, almost too warm. Like someone who's practiced being welcoming just enough to make sure you feel the power imbalance behind it.

I pause before nodding. "That's me."

She shifts, tucking her legs beneath her like this is a cozy catch up between besties. "I've been dying to meet you. Everyone's been talking about the Dumore girl since school started."

I give a small laugh, sliding into the seat across from her. "Hopefully in a flattering, non criminal way?"

"Oh, totally," she says, leaning in like we're old friends. "You're like this beautiful mystery no one can quite figure out. It's very... edgy."

She says "edgy" the way people say "experimental haircut", like it's a phase they'll politely wait to pass.

I smile anyway. "Mystery's my default setting."

Sierra laughs, twirling a strand of copper hair. "Well, welcome to Wildecliff. It's not as weird as everyone makes it sound, once you get used to the fog, the family legacies, and all the... traditions."

She doesn't glance at Jake, but her hand is still resting on his thigh like a placeholder.

"Sounds charming," I reply. "Next you'll tell me there's a blood oath and a monthly human sacrifice."

Sierra's eyes widen just a little, and she gives a breathy laugh. "Oh my god, you're funny."

It lands too flat. Like she wasn't expecting me to volley back. Like she'd already cast me in a supporting role in whatever scene she thought we were playing.

I sip from the glass in my hand. "Only on Mondays."

Justine coughs into her drink. Dylan's watching us like he's front row at a sold out play.

Sierra's smile twitches, but she recovers quickly. "Jake mentioned you earlier."

"Oh really?" I c**k my head and glance over at him, who is very purposefully not looking at me. "Was it before or after you two shared a romantic moment over a shared hatred of speed limits?"

Sierra's eyes flick toward Jake, then back to me. "He said you were... intense."

"Wow," I say, hand over my heart. "That's actually one of the nicest things anyone's ever said about me."

"Was it?" she asks sweetly.

"No," I reply, just as sweetly. "But I'll take what I can get."

Dylan gives a full blown laugh this time. Jake just runs a hand over his face and mutters something under his breath. Probably regretting every decision that led him to this moment.

Sierra presses her lips together in a tight smile. "You're spunky."

"Thanks," I say. "You're very... polished."

Tate claps his hands like he's just been waiting for the perfect moment. "Okay, wait, pause everything."

Everyone turns.

"I love her," Tate says, pointing at me. "That attitude? That energy? Can we keep her?"

Justine groans. "She's not a stray cat, Tate."

He ignores her. "No, really, Clara. Can you stay? I need this level of chaos in my life."

I lean back with a smirk. "I'll check my schedule."

A song starts playing, probably from Tate's phone, and to my surprise, I actually like it. The tension evaporates, replaced by buzz that makes my muscles relax and chest warm. Everyone's bodies loosen, shoulders drop. Even Sierra relaxes, curling closer to Jake, whispering in his ear.

He rolls his eyes, again, and takes a long swig from the flask, jaw clenching hard as he swallows. I can't look away. As if he can feel my gaze on him, his eyes snap to mine.

It's like time slows.

Even though we're both silently irritated with each other, neither of us looks away. I get why people are obsessed with him. He looks like a movie star, all angles and golden boy charm. I'm just waiting for him to snap out of it and look back at Sierra.

But he doesn't.

And I'm not looking away.

"Careful, Dumore," Jake says finally, one eyebrow arching with casual mockery. "Keep staring at me like that and I might start charging rent."

I blink once. Slow. Then smirk. "Trust me, if I wanted to look at something expensive and emotionally unavailable, I'd shop at Tiffany's."

Justine nearly chokes on her drink. Dylan coughs pointedly into his sleeve.

Jake tilts his head, his mouth twitching into a smirk, real this time. "You rehearsed that one?"

"Nope." I pop a caramel into my mouth. "Some of us are naturally gifted."

Jake smirks, clearly amused. "You always this friendly, or am I just special?"

I raise a brow, deadpan. "I save my best manners for the truly insufferable."

His grin deepens like I've confirmed something for him. Sierra shifts beside him, clearly less entertained. I just shrug and pop another candy in my mouth, letting the silence speak louder than anything else.

"So it's been decided!" Tate shoots up from the couch like he's announcing a revolution. "There's no better way to get to know someone than a game of truth or dare!"

Groans. Chuckles. Dylan rolls his eyes. "Seriously? That's such a childish game."

"What?" one of the guys says. "Afraid we'll find out your secrets?"

A chill runs through me, instinctive and wrong. I start breathing slowly, carefully, as everyone agrees to play.

"Some ground rules," Tate says, pacing like a professor. "Nothing's off limits. Two passes each, but you have to take a shot to earn it."

He whips around, grinning like the Joker.

And with everyone nodding, the game begins.

Tate, of course, goes first. And I can feel it. The way his eyes land on me, I can see the cogs turning in his mind.

He's going to pick me first, I can feel it. And by the way he's looking at me.

It's probably something I won't like.