• CHAPTER 2
    Ended up we never did talk, and that was because both of us were just too cowardly to talk about… IT.
    So day after day, week after week, we just hung out like real friends do. He was immediately accepted into our little group. The girls liked him, and he got along great with the guys. My friends asked if we were going out, and I said no, what would bring them to that conclusion? They explained the reasons. First, they had said, he sits by me every day at lunch (lunch was always entertaining. I swear, Ian could eat an entire cow every day), and second, we are always talking to each other and hanging out. I just said that we had become good friends.
    So, from then on, they were all over him; flirting, hugging him “casually”, hanging with him more than usual. Turns out I guess, that the only thing that had been holding them back, was that they thought that I was dating him.
    Well, they didn’t get much response from him, he still paid the most attention to me, and I to him. So they gave up, and life went on.
    Then things got weird. I didn’t fit it all together until the last clue had fallen into place.
    The first weird thing was that there was a fire in the school. Not so weird on its own, but grouped with this next bit, it seams suspicious. You see, this fire started right before Ian and I had to take a test we’d both been dreading, and Ian went to the bathroom because he claimed he was going to “pee his pants any minute” so the teacher, exasperated, let him go. Two minutes later, the fire alarm went off, and we all heard that one of the classrooms that had been empty at the time had burst into flames. Well, at least all the paper had.
    Then, when we were walking home from school, he was mad about something and wouldn’t tell me what, so I let it go. But I noticed that I smelled something burning, and looked around. I couldn’t find the source, and when Ian walked down his street after hugging me good-bye, the smell went away.
    That was it for the weird fire happenings, and I forgot about them for a while. The cause of this is that I got a very large crush on Ian.
    We were almost to our 5th class together, which was also the last period of the day when he took my hand; his hand was warm, really warm. I’m sure mine was cold, it always was. I looked over at him, and he was staring around at everyone that was staring at us, and then started skipping. A 12th grade boy was skipping down the hallway, and it looked fun so I started too. I laughed and we swung our hands in between us. We skipped into class and fell into our seats. I ended up falling into his lap. I tried to scramble off, but he laughed and then set me in my seat.
    When class started Ian and me started passing notes again, as we did in all of our classes. Usually, our notes were almost always silly things, like stories we were making up together, or something random. Today was no different.
    Suddenly the note was snatched from underneath my pencil, and I looked up, startled, to see that our teacher was walking down the isle to us, and I held my breath, what would we say when we didn’t have anything to explain with?
    “Do you have something to share Molly, Ian?” she asked. I shook my head and Ian just stared at the teacher. I saw him writing on a piece of paper underneath the desk, but I paid no attention, because he was trying not to get us in trouble. 5 seconds later Ian said “My notes?” and handed the teacher the newly fabricated list of notes on the lecture on history Mrs. Yen had just given. I snuck a look, and then smiled a little because that was clearly a hurried list of notes.
    “Hmmm… well Ian, you may want Molly’s help if you are going to pass this class, try and catch more of the information okay?” she walked back to the front of the class with her heals clicking against the wood floor. I looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was staring at the note. I was about to ask him what he was staring at when the small double-sided note suddenly burst into flames, but was only there for a fraction of a second. Along with the flames, a little sonic boom swept through the classroom, rustling papers and leaving kids looking all over the room trying to find the source.
    I gaped openly. He had just burned a piece of paper with his hands. I was still trying to compose myself when he glanced over, hearing me gasp I guess, and asked “What?” in a hushed whisper. I shook my head and murmured “nothing”. If he were keeping secrets from me, than that was just fine, I’d bust him after school.
    When the bell rang, I stood up stiffly and waited for him to gather his things. He looked confused. Well, he shouldn’t be keeping secrets from me, so I will keep secrets from him, for the time being. We walked over to the Big Oak tree and I called my mom, telling her I wouldn’t be home for a while, and she told me just to call when I was on my way. I slid to the ground, and Ian plopped down next to me.
    He started playing with my hair, and I got distracted. I looked over, and I was lost in the depths of his red-hot eyes. He chuckled, and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Did you have something to say?” he asked, sounding amused. So, he still hadn’t guessed had he? That brought back my former irritation, and I whipped my head away from his hand. That hand dropped, and I stared at the ground.
    “Since when do we keep secrets from each other?” I asked rudely.
    “What do you mean, Molly?” he asked, and now he sounded guarded. I looked at him, and his eyes displayed the same. “I always tell you everything” but I heard the false note in the lie.
    “Then why didn’t you tell me that you could, like, burn things?” I growled, to hide the hurt. This really got to me, for some reason. He jumped up, and started stalking off. I tried to catch up to him, but he was walking so swiftly that it was hard enough to stay within ten feet of him. “IAN!” I screamed. He didn’t turn. He just kept walking as if he hadn’t heard me. “Ian I didn’t mean to upset you!” I cried.
    “Well” he said, “I don’t really care what you intended, Molly” he said, and I thought that I heard tears in his voice. That’s what choked me, what kept the next words from flowing from my mouth, and stopped me cold. He kept walking, and turned down his street. It was Friday, and that was the last I saw from him until the weekend ended. It was a long weekend.