Her hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me out before I could close the door. "If it isn't the little kiss-ass hiding in the bathroom. What? Afraid you might scare the younger kids with your new look?"
I backed away from Mary, fear of conflict once again ruling me. But something snapped. The small fire that had started when I stood up to Dollinger now flamed to life. I stepped forward, for the first time invading Mary's personal space, and stared her in the eyes, so close her breath crawled over my skin. Power flooded me and I finally felt in control. This dwarfed even the rush I'd felt by the pool.
"What is your problem, Mary? Honestly, what do you gain by tormenting me? Does it stroke your fragile self-esteem? Are you so pathetic that only hurting other people makes you feel better? Do you really think that makes you hot shit?"
I didn't wait for her to reply. "Well, you know what, I don't really care anymore. Say what you want, it makes no difference."
Her eyes narrowed and her mouthed dropped open. Not the response she'd expected.
Her two lackeys held onto frozen sneers, waiting to see what would happen.
"And here's a tip for you. Don't mess with a girl who reads minds. I can pull out every thought you've ever had. What do you think I'll find if I do that? I can tell you what everyone else thinks of you too. Do you think the guys at this school really like you? That your powers make real feelings? You're fooling yourself, Mary, but no one else. They despise you for what you do to them." My voice sounded ugly, nothing like the real me—at least, the me I'd always imagined. Yet the raw righteousness of it, of feeding her the bile she always spewed at us, was like peeling off an itchy scab.
Her face collapsed, and she ran out of the bathroom, followed by her friends.
I sank onto the nearest toilet, shaking. Out of fear, rage, guilt? Standing up to her didn't feel as good as expected.
Maybe I felt bad because it felt so good, if that made any sense at all.
But something inside me rose up to greet this new girl who wouldn't allow herself to be pushed around, and against my own better judgment, I thought of my mystery boy.
***
I lost track of how long I sat in the bathroom, alone in my thoughts. When a group of giggling girls came in, I slid past them and out into the crowded halls of my school.
The bustle of life and my swirling thoughts made it hard to focus on anything. The adrenaline surge from my confrontation with Mary had long since passed, leaving me shaky and tired. My head ached and my eye pounded a steady pulse of pain with each heartbeat.
A familiar tug pulled at me, beckoning me to hide out in my room and cocoon myself from the harsh realities of life, but I couldn't. I first had to figure out what had happened to the art studio and my mentor.
With this renewed determination as armor against my pain, I focused my mind to search for the one person who might have some answers.
Kyle. The only fire starter in school.
His mental signature led me out of the building and through the gardens and walking paths near The Hub. I found him slumped over on a bench, lighting his finger like a lighter and then blowing it out. Light, blow, repeat.
"Kyle, can I talk to you?"
Though I'd kept my voice calm, he still jumped out of his seat and let loose a small ball of flames into the air. His eyes widened in fear at the loss of control, and he quickly diffused it before it could start any bigger fires.
"Sam, I heard you were back. I'm sorry about what happened... with your art."
I gestured to the bench. "May I join you?"
His eyes shuffled back and forth like a man hunted, but he nodded.
I settled in next to him and tried to maintain eye contact despite his shifting gaze. "You know I can read your mind whether you're looking at me or not."
"Sorry. It's just... I know everyone thinks I caused the fire, but I swear, I didn't."
'Don't know anything... but sensed something that night.... No one believes me.... Think I don't have control.'
"I believe you, Kyle. Can you tell me what you sensed that night?"
His golden eyes dropped, leaving me to stare at his auburn scalp.
"Okay, look. I know this sounds weird, but I can sense if there's a fire around. It's like, my body tingles or something." He looked back up, perhaps to judge my reaction.
I kept a neutral face and encouraged him to continue.
With more confidence, he did. "I can also tell something about the fire. Like, I know in my bones if it's manmade or natural or what, you know?"
"Makes sense."
"So, okay, that night, something weird happened. Like, that fire didn't just happen by accident. Someone started it on purpose."
"It was arson?" I had no room left in me for fear or shock, only a numb sadness.
"Yeah, but more than that. See, the fire started with power. Like, someone else who has a power like mine started it."