Page 24 of Burn

Without looking up, he asks, “Are things okay at home?”

No.

“Yeah. My mom and I get into it sometimes, but it’s okay.”

He nods, head still in his hands.

“Are you absolutely sure there’s nothing you want to tell me about last week? Would you prefer to talk to a counselor?”

“No, sir.” I try to make myself sound strong and confident.

Pretty sure I’m doing a piss-poor job.

“The school has a responsibility to keep students safe. Safe from faulty equipment, slippery floors, you know, maintenance-related things,” he pushes himself up, looking directly at me. His palms have left his eyes red. “We also have a responsibility to keep you safe from predators. There are bears and cougars in the area. Those aren’t the predators that scare me, Morgan.” I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me. “The predators that scare me the most are the ones that sit in my classrooms. The ones that walk the halls with their heads held high and a different kind of hunger than the beasts in the forests.”

“Predators, sir?” I feign confusion. I know what he means.

“You know exactly what I’m saying,” his tone is firmer, “How can I protect my students when my students repeatedly protect the wolf stalking the halls?”

Aaron’s long, sharp canines flash through my mind. That’s what he looks like. He looks like a wolf. Mr. Peters not only knows what happened but also who it happened with. My eyes widen, and the blood drains from my face. I nod but can’t speak.

“Can you go to class?” he asks. I nod again. “Okay. Go on. But, Morgan, please remember, my job is to protect the students here. My job is to protect you. I would be devastated to learn that I failed any of you. I would work to make it right if given the opportunity.”

I nod again and stand on shaky legs. Rachel also stands and opens the door, placing her hand gently on my shoulder as I exit. The buzzer signals the end of the first period, and the halls fill with students rushing to their next class. I walk toward my biology class with my head down. The knot in my chest feels like it’s coming unraveled, and I almost turn into the girls’ bathroom when the dark memory slams violently into me. I swallow, pushing the tension down and continuing to class.

I’m nearing the door to my class when one across the hall opens, and Story steps into the hall.Officially, the worst birthday.I keep walking, planning to ignore her, when she calls out to me.

“Hey, Morgan!” It stops me in my tracks. She’s sharp and commanding.

I look over my shoulder at her, “Yes, Story?”

Her eyes shift left and right, checking to ensure the coast is clear. She marches straight up to me, and I recoil.

I can’t have another altercation. Another confrontation. I’m so fucking tired.

Her lips are in a twisted smirk, but her eyes look weary.

“I heard what happened last week,” she starts.

“I don’t know what you heard, but —” It’s all I get out before she holds a hand up, cutting me off.

“I honestly don’t care. I don’t care who you fuck. Who you don’t fuck. I don’t care.” It’s so mean. If she knew, she wouldn’t be this mean, right?

My head drops, and my eyes land on my dirtyConverse. I nod. What else can I do?

“Okay, Story,” now I’m the one who’s resigned. “I know. You don’t care about me.”

She huffs a laugh. “No,” my heart twists. “You don’t know. You don’t know what I do or don’t care about. You don’t know anything about me or my life. You don’t know what it’s like growing up next door to Navaeh.” She’s a runaway train, the words spilling out of her, “You don’t know what it’s like constantly being compared to her. ‘Navaeh is so pretty’, ‘Nevaeh is so smart’, ‘Why can’t you be more like Navaeh?’ You don’t know shit, Morgan.”

Little pieces of myself have been breaking away for weeks. With each cruel taunt, with every sick word, with everyunwanted touch. With each, I leave pieces of myself behind. Eventually, there won’t be enough left to keep me whole.

“Story, it’s my fucking birthday. I’ve had a terrible fucking week. I just want to go to class and pretend this has all been a bad fucking dream. Please.”

Her eyes slice into mine, her glare thick with venom.

“Well then, Morgan. Happy Birthday.” Something in her tone feels wrong. “This is the best gift anyone will ever give you. Run away from Navaeh Cook. Stay as far away from that toxic piece of human trash as possible. She will destroy you.” I know my expression is changing from anger to shock. “She will destroy you because she cannot fathom anyone being better than her. She will destroy you because she’s bored. She will destroy you because she perceives you as less than her. She will destroy you because it’s the only way she can feel worthy.”

She steps closer, looking down the hall again before locking her eyes with mine. They shine as if she’s working to keep the tears back, “I wish we could be friends, Morgan. I’m trapped. You’re not. I wish you’d gotten away before this. She’s telling everyone she walked into the bathroom and found you blowing Aaron. I’m sorry.”

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