Page 19 of The Truths We Burn

“This has absolutely jack shit to do with chemistry. You can literally Google this. Four-year-olds could do it.”

“Well, let’s speed this process up. They’re headed back, and I want to get a good spot to watch Easton’s face when he shows up.”

I nod, heeding his warning and working quickly. Taking both bottles, I pull out my matches, striking one and watching the orange burst from the stick. My blood boils as I touch the flame to the rags hanging from the neck of the bottles. As I light them, I hope every time Sinclair sees his car he’ll think back to the words he spat at that diner.

He’ll think twice about pushing me too far next time. He’ll watch his mouth when it comes to Rose, when it comes to my friends.

This is a warning.

I’m consuming his car now, but the next time, it will be him I watch burn.

With agile movements, I rear back and chuck one bottle at a time through the Range Rover’s windows. One lands in the back seat and the other in the front. It won’t be long before the real action begins.

Two loud cracks like a whip against wet skin spark into the air as the glass bottles explode inside the car, swarming the vehicle in an inferno of retribution.

“Let the show begin, boys.”

My mouth begins to water as I move my bike up the hill past the town hall, a small knoll where we won’t be seen but has the perfect view of the disarray we are about to cause.

My foot bounces as I reach into my pocket, grabbing another cigarette to smoke while we watch. I watch as the entire town rolls in front of their star quarterback’s torched car.

The entire vehicle is completely up in smoke, covered from back to front.

Goosebumps race down my spine as I watch the flames dance, swirl, and spin with fascination, seeing every single sin I’ve ever committed inside of them. The embers floating off into the open air remind me of the tiny pieces that are left of my soul.

There were times when I was young, I would hear fire trucks pass my house, and I’d desperately try to chase them, running behind their sirens so I could see what it was they were racing to put out.

I’d only successfully made it to three, but every time, I was jealous that I wasn’t the creator of that blaze. It was beyond my control sometimes.

A sickness.

One that rushed through my veins and spun around every cord of my DNA. It infected me all over. A sickness that I refused to cure.

My heart pounds in my chest, my palms sweaty as I grin from our spot on the hill, looking down at their horrified faces. Easton is losing his fucking mind as people desperately attempt to dull the fire.

It’s total mayhem.

Parents gathering their children.

Students yelling.

The football team using their letterman jackets to swat at the sea of flames.

And then there is her.

Pretty poison in her tight cheerleading uniform that wraps around her like a second skin. A long-sleeve top that squeezes her perky breasts and leaves her diamond belly ring glinting in what’s left of the sunset. The forest green of her outfit is the complete opposite of her curled, red hair, only making her stand out more.

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, dying to know what’s underneath that skirt.

By nature, she is seamlessly made.

Designed for deception.

You are taught to steer clear of beautiful things in the wild.Exquisitely colored frogs with neon patterns, stunning jellyfish that glow with their bioluminescence, exotic caterpillars that seem friendly enough to pet—they are all designed to bring attention and ward off danger.

Other creatures know to steer clear of the pretty things of the world.Humans feel the need to ignore those warnings, feel the need to touch even when we shouldn’t.

Leave the beautiful things alone, they tell you.

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