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Page 15

 Brigid Kemmerer

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“What happened?” she said.
I started a fire. Gabriel shook his head, looking at anything but her face.
“They found a lighter in your pocket,” she said. “Were you smoking out there?”
He coughed. “No.”
“Did you start a fire on purpose?”
He shook his head again and felt his throat tighten. His eyes burned. He had to swallow twice. No way he could lie right now; she’d see right through it. He couldn’t even think straight to come up with a story. “I was just walking.”
“Did you see anyone?”
He shook his head. At least that was the truth. “The leaves were on fire.” He coughed again, and it hurt. Maybe he did need the oxygen. “It spread fast.”
She took the mask out of his hands and pressed it to his face again. That compassion was back. “No kidding.”
“Gabriel.”
He jerked his head up. Michael stood a few feet behind her, the emergency lights flickering off his hair and clothes, turning his eyes red and his expression frightening. It was an intense look, a fierce look. A grown-up look.
Gabriel couldn’t cut through the guilt to snap at him. He wanted to wilt like that stupid kid had when Gabriel pulled him away from Layne.
He could already hear Michael’s voice. We’re supposed to be lying low. You could have burned down the house. You’re such a disappointment.
Or maybe that was his own voice.
Gabriel swiped at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Michael. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please ”
But then his brother grabbed him by the back of the neck.
And just when Gabriel thought Michael was going to haul off and take a swing at him, he pulled Gabriel forward and wrapped him up in a hug.
Michael held him for a long time, and Gabriel let him.
Finally, Michael pushed him back by the shoulders and looked at him. “Are you all right?”
Gabriel nodded.
Michael ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I swear to god, you guys are going to give me gray hair before I hit twenty-five.”
He wasn’t mad. Gabriel stared at him.
“Just some smoke inhalation,” said Hannah. “We can run him to the hospital to be sure.”
Gabriel shook his head. “No way.”
“You’re one lucky kid,” she said.
Gabriel snorted and looked at the woods, the smoke pouring into the night sky. Lucky.
“Are Chris and Nick all right?” he said.
Michael nodded. “They aren’t even home. They left right after you did.”
So they’d never been in danger at all. That loosened something in Gabriel’s chest.
Michael was looking at Hannah. “Is he all right to go home?”
She looked doubtful. Gabriel stepped closer to his brother, putting some distance between himself and the ambulance, suddenly worried they were going to make him go to the hospital, anyway. “Michael, I’m fine.”
“Just chill out and let her be the judge, okay?”
Hannah was staring now. “Michael,” she said. “Mike Merrick.”
“Yeah?”
Her cheeks looked pink, but it might have been the strobe lights from the fire truck. “Hannah Faulkner.” She paused. “We went to school together.”
Michael was staring back at her blankly. “Hey.”
His brother, the master of conversation.
“You don’t remember me.” Her expression evened out. “I was a year behind you.”
“Oh.” Now Michael looked flustered. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s been a while.”
Then they just stood there looking at each other.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “So can I go home or what?”
She blinked and looked back at him. “Yes. Let me get one of the EMTs so your brother can sign for you to go.”
It took twenty minutes, but eventually he was sitting beside Michael in the front seat of the work truck. Now that they were alone, Gabriel wondered if his brother’s relief would morph into that anger Michael always carried around. Normally Gabriel would poke at him, provoke him into a fight.
Right now he just wanted Michael to yell, to slice into some of this guilt that had Gabriel in a choke hold.
But his brother didn’t say anything.
After they’d pulled into the driveway, Gabriel moved to slide out of the cab, but Michael caught his arm.
Gabriel braced himself.
Michael said, “Take your clothes off in the garage, and put them in the bin. Don’t touch anything until you take a shower.”
That was it?
Gabriel stared at him for a moment. It felt like he needed to clear his throat again. “Why?”
“You’ll see why when you look in a mirror.”
Michael went into the house and left him to strip down to his shorts. Here in the light of the garage, Gabriel could see his hands and forearms were blackened with soot. His clothes were practically unrecognizable. Even his shoes wouldn’t be salvage-able.
They all went in the trash.
Gabriel paused with his hand on the door. The air was cold and he didn’t want to stand out here too long, but he wondered if this was it, if Michael would be waiting to lay into him now.
But his brother was just cleaning up the dinner dishes, so Gabriel went upstairs to take a shower.
Michael had been right: Soot lined his face, and his hair was full of charred bits of leaves and bark. His hands left prints all over everything. After he toweled off, he took one of those Lysol wipes to the sink and the light switch. Oh, and the door.