Free TORCH by Yvonne Collins, Sandy Rideout

murderer. “In case you haven’t heard, my brother died a few months ago. Dad deserves some leeway.”
    “Not if he’s putting people’s lives at risk,” Kai says. “Murderers don’t get any leeway.”
    “Shut up,” I hiss. “Just shut up.”
    Kai pulls another wad of serviettes from the metal holder and wipes his face with them. “Chill, would you?”
    “You call my dad a murderer and you expect me to chill?” There’s a flare of anger in my head, in my chest. I want to—
    His hand moves so fast it’s a silver blur. I barely have time to register that the serviettes in the holder are burning before he touches them and puts out the fire.
    The flare I felt in my chest has faded, and I heave a sigh of relief that the fire I apparently started is out before anyone saw it.
    “See?” Kai says. “You start fires, I put them out. And your dad starts fires, and my dad puts them out. And our grandparents before them. That’s how it goes. The Seavers have been covering for the Forsythes for centuries.”
    “Well you don't have to cover for me.
    “No, but I need to protect people from you. You’re a hazard. Maybe worse than your dad.”
    So now he’s saying I’m a potential murderer. I fight back the anger, knowing I could set the table on fire. Then he won’t be the only one who thinks I’m a freak. “You,” I say, getting to my feet, “can screw off.”
    “Listen to me,” he says. “You’ve got to learn how to control this, or you’ll end up in trouble.” He grabs my phone and enters his contact information. “I can help.”
    “Just leave me alone,” I say, taking my phone back.
    He comes after me as I stomp out of the diner. “Phoenix, wait. You should know—”
    “Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it,” I say, hurrying toward the Jeep.
    “You can’t deny who you are,” he says, right on my heels.
    I fumble for my keys but my hands are shaking so much I can’t find the right button. “I don’t believe anything you said.”
    Kai puts one hand on the car door on either side of me. “Then believe this.” Leaning down, he pauses for a moment and then kisses me. When his lips touch mine, it feels intriguing, at first. Gentle and cool. Then cool drops to cold, and the burning sets in. I try to pull away, but I can’t. It’s like being drawn in by an undertow. I had the same feeling in the pool. He’s pulling all the air out of me and I am smothering, drowning. Placing both my hands on his chest, I push as hard as I can. My lips seem fused to his, and when the seal breaks, it’s as if he takes some of my skin with him.
    Kai’s lips are bright red, and his T-shirt, where I touched his chest, is singed in the shape of my hands. Either smoke or steam rises off the burn marks and drifts off into the night. I shake my hands to cool them.
    Kai rubs his chest. The steaming stops, but the scorch marks remain. As he backs away, he says, “Get it now?
    I don’t get anything. Except that kissing this guy nearly killed me.
    And I want to do it again.
     

 
     
     
     
    “ W hat about show choir?” Regan asks, handing me half of her tuna sandwich.
    I’m not hungry, but I take the sandwich anyway. I need to act as normal as I can around Regan and my family, and Normal Phoenix takes any and all food handouts. My metabolism hasn’t slowed since I gave up swimming. If anything, it’s stepped up, and no matter how much I eat, I don’t gain weight. But since my encounter with Kai two days ago, my appetite has dwindled, if only because my mouth is still sore. The skin is so dry it cracks and bleeds, although it’s healing faster than after I resuscitated him.
    “Let’s audition,” I say. Normal Phoenix is still in the Operation Destiny game, despite wanting to lay low. “I can carry a tune.”
    Regan laughs, knowing singing isn’t my gift, either. “Auditions are Wednesday, and you can’t sing with your mouth like that.”
    “It’ll be healed by then,” I say. She’s given me a