Page 17 of Playing with Fyre

Something bugs me, though.

My pills.

It’s weird. The bottle’s the same, but the pills look different. And although I do fall asleep like before, it’s not the same. I wake up refreshed, and I have energy like nothing before.

Fyre straightens and glances around the class as if he’s trying to spot whose project he hasn’t looked at yet.

Me! Look at me!

As if he hears my desperate plea, Professor Fyre turns and looks right at me.

An arrow pierces my heart. My unrequited love for Fyre has grown so much in the last couple of weeks. I want to burst into flames every time I see him. Implode. Explode. I don’t know which, but it’s glorious and violent, and I can barely contain myself when he looks at me.

I squirm in my seat as he moves near, his easy smile growing an extra inch as he comes up to me.

“What do you have for me, Charlotte?”

Everything. My heart, my soul—

I clear my throat and slowly turn around the piece of paper on my desk. I expect Fyre’s eyes to go to it immediately—he must be curious, right?—but instead he just keeps staring at me.

My insides pool.

How is it possible for a single look like that to make my panties wet?

“Absolute perfection,” he murmurs, still with his eyes on me.

Shock turns my skin pale and cold. “Wh-what?”

Finally, ruefully, his eyes slide away from my face and settle on the paper in front of me. He stands there for the longest time, his mere presence igniting a million different nerve points through my body.

“Is it okay?” I ask, glancing between him and my drawing with mounting panic.

I should have used color. I should have tried to paint something. It’s horrible. He hates it. Why did I—?

“A gift,” he says.

It’s insane, but at that moment, I’m convinced he’s talking about the peonies that fill my home with their sweet fragrance every morning.

“You have a gift, Charlotte.”

“Really?” My heart is about to explode out of my chest with pride. “It’s that good?”

His hand slides onto my shoulder. I jolt at the touch, but then I lean into it, barely restraining myself from resting my head against his arm. “You certainly have talent. Come see me after class. I want to discuss something with you.”

My heart climbs up my throat and lodges itself there. I’m aware I’m staring at Fyre’s back as he makes his way to the front of the class, but I can’t help myself.

I look down at my drawing.

It’s a still life. A single peony positioned just-so on my bedroom pillow. One petal came loose and lays beside the flower. I left it there because it looked…right.

The last ten minutes of class flows by like a glacier. I’m coming out of my skin by the time the bell rings and Fyre moves to stand by the door as he greets every one of his students.

It’s the last time he’ll be seeing us, after all.

I take my time packing up and leave the picture for last. Lifting it, I hold it carefully and step out from behind my desk.

Across the classroom, Fyre greets the last student, steps outside into the hall, checks left and right, and then steps back inside.

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