Spark

CHAPTER 13

This frigging substitute had to go. Gabriel hadn’t even done the previous night’s assignment, and now she wanted to start every class with a six-question warm-up that she would collect and grade each day.

He might as well just kill himself right now.

It wasn’t like he could wrangle his thoughts into submission, anyway. He kept thinking about the fire.

Last night had been a fluke. Too many things could have gone wrong. Sure, he’d held the flames for a few minutes—but he could have lost it. He could have killed that kid. Hunter. Himself.

He’d felt that kind of potential before.

But this had been different. Working with Hunter was like finding another level of control. It was nothing like calling elements with Nick, who always backed away from risk.

Gabriel scowled. He didn’t want to think about his twin.

Because thinking about the fight with Nick just made him think about the fight beforehand, with Layne’s father.

At least Layne wasn’t here yet. Gabriel wasn’t sure what to say once she showed up.

Taylor Morrissey swung onto the desk in front of him. Low-slung jeans revealed a solid six inches of tanned midsection despite the fact that temperatures had been in the low fifties every morning. Her hair spilled over one shoulder, but it just felt like such an act.

He kept his expression uninterested. “Hey, Taylor.”

She leaned forward, until he could see clear down the V-neck of her top. “Gary Ackerman said he saw you take the bus to school. What’s up with that?”

What was up with that was Nick being an asshole. He’d taken the car while Gabriel was in the shower.

He shrugged and looked at the doorway. Still no sign of Layne, so he dragged his eyes back to Taylor. “My brother had to get here early. I didn’t feel like it.”

He caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw Layne push through the doorway, her head down. Turtleneck, jeans, hair in a braid. She didn’t look at him.

“Your brother, huh?” said Taylor. She smirked.

He couldn’t figure out her tone—and he didn’t really care. He frowned at her. “What?”

Layne slipped into the chair beside him. It took everything he had not to look at her.

Taylor shrugged one shoulder. “You’re looking kind of, you know, tired today.”

She was implying something, but he had no idea what. He probably did look tired. It went right along with being tired. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be paragons of perfection like you, Taylor.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Layne stiffen beside him. Hadn’t she said something similar last night? But then she was moving again, pulling things from her backpack.

Taylor leaned in, showing more of what she had to offer. Her voice was almost taunting. “Did you sleep at someone else’s house?”

Layne suddenly went very still.

Gabriel wanted to glare at her. Did Layne seriously think he’d leave her house like that, then go find some mindless girl to hook up with?

“Jesus, Taylor, scope your gossip with someone else. I was home all night.”

“Whatever you say.” She swung her legs against the desk, not at all bothered. “Did you hear about Alan Hulster?”

He glanced at the empty seat on the other side of his chair. “What, did someone finally kick his ass?”

“No, his house burned down.”

Gabriel snapped his head around. “What?”

“Yeah, like, to the ground.” Taylor pulled a piece of gum out of her purse and rolled it across her tongue suggestively, as if this news was just a sideline to her flirtation. “His little sister was trapped. They thought she was dead, but some fireman got her out just before the whole place collapsed. That dude is a hero. Isn’t that intense?”

Gabriel could feel his heart smacking his rib cage. He’d never thought about that house belonging to someone he knew.

Layne cleared her throat, and her voice came out small. “Is his sister okay?”

Taylor rolled her eyes and pushed her hair over one shoulder. “I’m sorry, were you a part of this conversation?”

“God, Taylor.” Gabriel kicked the leg of her chair. It was a miracle his voice wasn’t shaking. “Is his sister okay?”

“Jeez.” Taylor frowned. “Yeah . . . I think so—”

Ms. Anderson chose that moment to slide into the room. Taylor swung around and dropped into her chair.

Gabriel couldn’t think through the six questions on the board—not like it would matter. He scribbled random numbers, his mind spinning through the events of last night.

That dude is a hero.

He sure didn’t feel like it.

He’d gone there to be close to a fire. Not to save someone.

Thoughts gripped his mind so tightly that he couldn’t say a word to Layne—but she had her head down over her work, anyway.

He passed his paper forward with everyone else, and he didn’t even care what he got. The substitute was lecturing, but he didn’t hear a word. His ears were full of Hunter’s words from last night.

We could do this again. Think about it.

When the bell rang, Layne bolted from her seat without looking at him.

Gabriel bolted after her, intending to catch her in the hallway.

But Ms. Anderson’s voice stopped him before he got out of the room. “Mr. Merrick, I’d like to speak with you.”

Mr. Merrick. He hated when teachers called him that, like he was an old man stopping by to learn a few math tricks.

He stopped beside her desk and glanced at the door. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t turn in last night’s homework. Or the day before.”

He shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulder and looked at the door again. “I forgot it. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

“And I was reviewing the quizzes from the other day.”

That got his attention. “I thought they didn’t count.”

She leaned back in the chair. “They don’t. I was concerned about how you answered the questions.”

Who gave a crap how he answered the questions? “So?”

“Some were right, and some were wrong. I’m having a hard time with the fact that nothing was wrong the same way.”

He could hear his own breathing. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.” She paused. “And in class the other day, when I called you to the board, you struggled with the formula.”

“Look, could we get to the point?”

She raised her eyebrows. “My point is that someone with an A average shouldn’t be struggling with anything at this point in the year.”

“Well, if I’ve got an A average, two homeworks shouldn’t matter too much.”

“Maybe not.” She leaned forward and looked up at him. In a creepy way, it reminded him of Taylor, though she was hot, and Ms. Anderson was . . . not. “Do I understand that you have a twin brother?”

God, it was hot in here. “Yeah?”

She gave him a level look. “He’s in AP Calculus, so he’s presumably taken this class before?”

Gabriel stared at her. He sure as hell wasn’t going to volunteer anything now.

“Look,” she said. “I’m not trying to hassle you. But you need a math credit to graduate. And you need to earn it yourself. If you need help, I’ll give it to you. But you can’t expect me to turn a blind eye to blatant cheating. You’ll need to work harder, apply yourself . . .”

He glanced at the door again. Layne was probably on to her next class by now, and he’d missed the first five minutes of lunch.

“. . . the coach will let you back on the team,” Ms. Anderson finished.

Gabriel snapped his head back around. “Wait.” He put a hand on the desk and leaned in. His backpack slid off his shoulder to hit the floor. “What did you just say?”

She didn’t flinch from his tone. “I said you have a week and a half to prove that you’re doing the work yourself. You can’t play sports if you can’t pass your classes. I’ll let you retake the last unit test that Monday, and if you can show that you’re putting the time in, I’ll speak to the basketball coach, and he’ll let you on the team.”

His fists clenched. “But that’s bull—”

The lights flickered, and his breath caught. The sub glanced up.

Gabriel swallowed his words. “Tryouts are tomorrow.” He kept his voice low, even. If he blew the lights again, Michael would flip out.

“And Coach Kanner agreed to hold a spot for you. If you can prove you’re doing the work.”

He wanted to punch something. He’d never wanted to hit a girl, much less a teacher, but right now—

“You don’t have to get an A,” she said evenly. “You just have to pass.”

He gritted his teeth and fought to keep his hands at his sides. “You can’t do that.”

“Actually, you’re right. I should follow procedure and report you to the principal. Then you could sit in his office, take an exam in front of him, and see how you do. Want to handle it that way?”

Fury had his chest in a vise grip. He ground the word out. “No.”

Her voice softened. “I’m trying to help you here. I can give you some extra time after class, if you’d like—”

“No, thanks.” He slung the backpack over his shoulder again and turned for the door. “I think you’ve done enough.”

After school, Gabriel stood on the free throw line in the empty gym and shot an easy basket. Twice.

He kept thinking of what Michael had said the other night, about being surrounded by people, yet not having any true friends. The first few weeks of the season were everything. Figuring out positions, how to work as a team. He’d probably miss the first game. The other guys wouldn’t want him walking onto the team late. He sure wouldn’t.

He’d already been to talk to the coach. He’d done that instead of going to lunch—what was he going to do, sit by himself? Pretty clear where Nick stood. But then the coach hadn’t been too encouraging.

And the one person who’d offered to help him—well, he’d done a pretty good job of chasing her off last night.

He was so fucked.

The halogen lights buzzed more loudly for an instant, and Gabriel closed his eyes. Breathe.

He wanted to pull the lighter out of his pocket, to spin the flame through his knuckles—but getting caught with a lighter could be an automatic suspension. Like he didn’t have enough problems.

Still. He felt like a junkie looking for a fix.

“You all right?”

Gabriel opened his eyes. Hunter stood there, almost directly beneath the basket.

“Dude. You’re starting to freak me out with this showing up out of nowhere.”

“You weren’t at lunch.”

Gabriel shrugged and threw at the basket. It bounced off the rim.

Hunter’s hand shot out to catch it, and he passed it back, lightning quick.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and bounced the ball against the court. “You play?”

“Nah.” A shrug. But then he dropped his backpack against the wall and put his hands up. Gabriel tossed him the ball, and Hunter sank a basket from the line. “Team sports aren’t really my thing. You know.”

Hunter’s abilities drew other people to him—but just because they were drawn to him didn’t mean they were nice about it. Gabriel knew that from Becca.

He thought about what Hunter had said: You weren’t at lunch.

Maybe Hunter was every bit as lonely as he was.

“I’m avoiding Nick,” he offered.

Hunter caught the ball again and threw it back to Gabriel. “I get it.”

Gabriel caught it and dribbled, each smack of the ball echoing in the gym, then passed it back, hard. “You never told me why you followed me last night.”

Hunter caught it and returned with equal force. “Maybe you’re not the only one who wants to use his powers.”

“You know that was Alan Hulster’s house. He goes to school here.”

“So?”

“So we could have been caught.”

Hunter scoffed. “Please. You don’t give a crap about getting caught.”

“I give a crap about killing people.”

Hunter frowned. “You didn’t start that fire.”

Gabriel didn’t say anything, just tossed the ball at the basket again. It swished through.

Hunter caught it and passed it back. “They were going to leave that girl in there. If she had died, it still wouldn’t have been your fault.”

“Keep your goddamn voice down.” Gabriel cast a glance at the doors, but they were still alone.

“You saved her life! I can’t believe you—”

Gabriel got in his face and hit him in the chest with the ball. “Leave it.”

Hunter stared at him, and for half a second, Gabriel wondered if he was going to back down, the way Nick or Chris would.

Or if he was going to fight back, the way he had behind the mall.

But then Hunter smiled and took the ball. “You’re afraid.”

“Of you?” Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Fat chance, you—”

“No.” Hunter backed off, dribbling the ball as he went. “Of yourself. You pick a fight every time someone might figure you out.” He threw the ball at the basket from some distance down the court—a solid three-pointer. It went right in. “You think I don’t wonder if I could have saved my dad and my uncle, if I’d been stronger?”

Gabriel didn’t look at him. That vise grip had his chest again, but it was an entirely different feeling from math class. “You didn’t kill them, Hunter.”

“We can talk blame all day. What difference does it make?”

It shouldn’t make a difference. But it did.

Hunter threw another basket. “My dad used to say, ‘If you can’t fix what you did wrong, at least try to make something else right.’ ”

He was talking about house fires.

But Gabriel thought of Layne.

He fished his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. JV basketball practice would still be going on, so she was probably in the school somewhere.

“Got a date?” said Hunter.

“Maybe.” He shoved the phone into his pocket and grabbed his bag.

“That’s it? No comment?”

“No comment.” Gabriel swung around and hit him in the chest. “And I am not afraid.”

“Liar.”

Gabriel made a disgusted sound and turned for the door.

“So, later,” Hunter called. “If there’s a fire—you in or out?”

Out. Out, out, out.

Gabriel pressed his forehead against the cold steel of the door and sighed.

“In.”