Free Soul Fire by Nancy Allan

I stared at her. “Lisa,” I whispered. My friend. Or so I had thought. We were both in Harrison’s math class, both on the precision team, and we had known each other for years. A memory flashed through my mind: last year’s Christmas party with our skating team. I had drawn her name for the gift exchange, and knowing her passion for cats, I had given her a dainty silver necklace in the shape of a kitten. Overwhelmed, she’d hugged me. What had changed?
    “Let go,” she yelled. “You’re hurting me!”
    I released her. “Why?” I asked, my voice hushed.
    She pulled away from me, and quick as could be, grabbed her cell off the floor and fled. I cursed myself for not picking it up first. I knew what Lisa was trying to do. There were a few nasty girls in this school who used their cells to snap photos of girls sitting on the toilet. They posted these embarrassing photos on a website they called, Peekaboo. I stood there trying to comprehend why Lisa, once my friend, someone I had known for years, would do a thing like that.
    Her desire to hurt me brought deeper pain than what I had just received from Rand. I turned and looked in the mirror. Had I been living in a bubble all this time? Angrily, I splashed cold water on my face, washed my hands, took a deep breath, and walked out. My eyes fixed on the exit sign and I hurried toward it.
    I had to get away, but where would I go? Home was out of the question. I had no job. My one remaining friend was in class. The pool was booked during weekdays, and I would stick out in the library. As I crossed the grounds, I looked around for Delta, but there was no sign of him. I walked around the neighborhood aimlessly for what felt like hours. A cold, damp wind was blowing and I was chilled through. In misery, I stopped at the community park. There were no benches, so I went over to a cluster of overgrown shrubs and leaned against an old fir tree. After a while, I slid down the trunk and hit the damp ground, my forehead falling onto my knees. I stuffed my hands between my legs to warm them. Tears seeped into my jeans. My emotions churned—a cauldron of chaos, my thoughts in turmoil.
    I was scared. I had no experience at being ‘hated’. Nor did I have any answers or ideas about how to get out of the mess I was in. I was trapped.
    Never in my life had I felt so defeated and alone.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    The cold and the dampness seeped into my bones. My feet and legs were numb. I hurt where I’d been punched and kicked and I hadn’t moved for what felt like hours. It began to rain, declaring a fitting end to the day.
    Something brushed my arm. “Come on,” a voice said and I felt two strong hands reach for me. “It’s starting to rain.”
    “No.” I twisted away.
    He lifted me up, and I found myself looking at Delta. He pulled off his Tarantula jacket, turned it inside out, and put it over my shoulders. Then I felt his arm around me. My legs had lost circulation, so I could barely walk. He half carried me until the circulation returned to my feet. Neither of us spoke and when we arrived at his house, he put his finger to his lips. “Quiet now,” he cautioned me. I followed him upstairs and he motioned to the couch. I collapsed onto it while he disappeared, returning a few minutes later with two cups of hot chocolate and cheese sandwiches. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty.
    He stuffed a half sandwich into my hand and put the hot drink on the coffee table.
    “Heard what happened,” he said, sliding into the armchair opposite me. Again, I wondered how he had come across me in the park. “Rand is a real piece of work. He’s simple and he’s a horror show. You okay?”
    I shook my head.
    “Have the hot chocolate. It’ll warm you up.”
    I looked down at the cup. “No little pink pills?”
    “After, if you promise not to pass out again.”
    I picked up the hot mug and let its warmth thaw my icy fingers. It tasted delicious and suddenly, I was hungry and tried the sandwich. Not