Burn Before Reading by Sara Wolf
He shook his head, curly hair flying. “No. I don’t know. I feel everything all the time forever. In excruciating detail.”
I put my hand on his. “If it makes you feel better I came to this party to get away from the bullshit at home. I guess I reached a breaking point, because here I am, the scholarshipper with no life, no fancy clothes, no dancing skills.”
“Yeah, actually, now that you mention it you definitely stand out a little,” He smirked, sarcastically eyeing my giant gray hoodie and messy hair. I was quiet. What was I even doing here? I needed to be home. I needed to broker the peace. Dad and Mom were probably tearing each other’s throats out, and when it was over Dad would feel so awful and Mom would take off, and he’d be alone with his self-hating thoughts –
I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t go back. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t be the fixer, anymore. If I had to put on a fake smile one more time and lie to Dad that it was going to be fine, I’d crumble. My heart ached, like a mirror with a deep crack in it, ready to fall apart at any moment. But if I didn’t go back, what was all this for? What was Lakecrest, NYU, all my studying for? What was this whole spying for Mr. Blackthorn and lying to the brothers for? It would be wasted. I was doing all this exactly for moments like this – to help Dad. To keep his depression from consuming him. If I came home, and he’d hurt himself –
I came back to reality only to see Fitz taking a tiny baggie out of his pocket. Inside sat two small white pills. He saw me staring and smirked.
“My other pill was four hours ago. It’s time to refresh.”
“Fitz –“
“Don’t, Bee. Please. I need them. I need them tonight more than ever. I know what I’m doing – I’ve done worse than this before. So just trust me, okay? Let me deal with my shit in my own way.”
“Burn said –“
“Burn doesn’t know shit,” Fitz snapped. “About what it’s like. He runs off into the woods, or to the ocean, or the mountains, somewhere no one can find him, or talk to him –” He flinched. “He’s never there when you need him. He’s abandoned me and Wolf too many times for me to give a crap about what he’s said. He thinks I’m an addict. And maybe I am, but at least I’m not a loner who can’t handle being there for his younger brothers!”
“Whoa,” I lowered my voice. “Okay. Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Fitz massaged his brow. “God. I know. I know you didn’t. I’m just….I’m just pissed at him.”
There was a silence. I couldn’t help the images of Dad’s bleeding, broken body flashing through my mind. Mom’s bags packed as she left, divorcing him. My parents never speaking to each other again. My brain warred with my heart, and my heart warred with my soul, leaving craters and burnt land in its wake.
My eyes fell on the pills in Fitz’s hand. I watched him down one with water, and he saw me staring.
“You – you wouldn’t happen to want one of these, would you?”
“I’m not – I’ve never –“
“Well I’ve done it a lot,” Fitz said. “I know what to look for, what the danger signs are. And I’ll be right here with you.”
I studied the tiny pill. “What does it do?”
“Relaxes you. All your muscles. And you forget, for a while, all the stuff that came before. All the stuff bothering you.”
“How long does it last?”
“Oh, an hour. Two hours. Three if you drink something with it and get lucky.”
“So you take it and just do what? Dance? That doesn’t sound fun.”
“We could just lay here, talk about stuff. Stuff that isn’t sad, for once.”
My brain was an echo chamber of two words; ‘dad dying’. Over and over, like a chorus of disembodied voices who refused to free me from my suffering. My nails bit my palm.
“Okay. But you have to promise to stay with me.”
Fitz smiled, so golden and charming I was nearly blinded. “I promise.”
I took the pill in shaking hands and quickly downed it with water before I could second guess myself. Fitz and I laid back on the bed, and my stomach danced.
“I’m going to jail for this, right?” I asked. Fitz laughed.
“Maybe. But I can probably bust you out. Their security systems are notoriously outdated. Burn could be the muscle. Wolf could just look at them and make them piss themselves.”
“He does have that effect,” I agreed. I felt like I was waiting for the axe to drop in a guillotine – when would the pill kick in? Would I feel it? Would I die the second it hit my bloodstream?
Time started to blur together. Fitz and I talked about the War of the Roses again and how dumb the outfits were back then, and all of sudden, mid-sentence about the Lancasters, I felt my whole body grow hot. It was like someone shifted bike gears for my brain, because the fear just left me all at once. All the voices in my head telling me Dad was dying and I was selfish and stupid for ignoring him right now just...evaporated. All my doubts drowned in little gentle rocking waves of peace. I looked over at Fitz and he smiled at me.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“It’s….nice,” I marveled. “My body feels heavy but nice.”
Let me super clear about this, pen-and-paper; drugs suck. I mean, I could understand Fitz and his marijuana thing; Dad did the old weed thing when he was younger, and even when I was a kid, but he stopped when it started affecting his depression more and more. I was fine with personal weed journeys. I knew better than to believe the media scare tactics of ‘weed can kill!’ or some other nonsense. But stuff like these pills? Popping medications meant for diseases recreationally? Nothing good comes out of that. That was the really bad stuff. And I learned that the hard way, that night.
“Let’s go,” Fitz sat up. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” I agreed, my stomach gurgling ravenously.
We sat up and walked upstairs together. It was strange; even moving my body felt good, like I was doing it in slow motion, underwater, like I was moving through a room chock full of the fluffiest, most cottony pillows ever. Fitz and I crammed our paper plates with turkey and fancy omelets and cheesecake before collapsing on the nearest available couch. Someone had turned on some music, and people were dancing in the living room. It looked fun. If just moving my body felt good, I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to dance like that. Fitz saw me staring, and once we finished eating he pulled me up.
“C’mon. Dance with me.”
“I can’t!” I laughed. The sound of my own voice startled me. How long had it been since I laughed like this – like I was excited and really having fun?
“You have no choice, madam. I put secret dancing juice into those pills,” He whispered, and I laughed again. He led me through the crowd to the center.
“I seriously can’t dance,” I insisted. Fitz smiled back at me over his shoulder.
“Just listen to the music. Don’t think about anything else – just listen to the drums.”
I might’ve been high, but I wasn’t totally unaware of how I looked. I swayed nervously. Suddenly, Fitz flailed his arms and legs in an enthusiastic dance. Nothing I’d do would look anywhere near as bad. I laughed so much my stomach felt sore, and when I came up for air all I could hear was my blood rushing in my ears and the drums pounding on them. This music was great. I raised my arms, the pillows pressing against my skin again, all over, so soft and comforting.
We danced until I felt like my face was on fire. Fitz pulled me by the hand out of the crowd.
“I’m so hot,” He gasped.
“And you know it!” I elbowed him. He chuckled and pointed at the glass doors leading out of the kitchen and to the pool outside.
“Let’s get some air.”
There were way less people outside than inside. When the cool autumn air kissed my sweaty skin, I almost gasped. It felt incredible – like suntanning for hours and then dipping into the cold ocean. I nursed my pleasan
Fitz’s eyes wandered up the legs of a girl playing beer pong inside. He nudged me.
“I’m going to go get a drink. You stay here, okay? Do you want anything?”
I shook my head. He moved to get up, but I clutched his arm.
“Thank you, Fitz. For this.”
He smiled, playfully. “Anything for my dowdy little scholarshipper.”
He disappeared inside the house, leaving me with the delightful emptiness in my head. In a way, it was sort of like how I felt skydiving, except without the adrenaline. In fact, I probably had negative adrenaline, with how slow I felt. Even my blinks felt like they took ages. The water was so cool on my feet, and my body was so comfortable. The world went dark.
I don’t remember anything that happened after that, pen-and-paper. The next thing I remembered was shouting. Lots of loud voices, all at once. They were soft, but they slowly grew until they were tearing across my eardrums.
“I can’t believe you did this!” A furious voice, burning from the inside, consuming every sound in its flames.
“It was one second, Wolf!” A melodious voice, angry, but fluid and bright, like a fizzy drink. The wildfire voice burst forth again.
“One second? You’re telling me you left her alone, intentionally, to what, go chase your tranquilizers with bourbon? Is your fucking party high more important than her?”
“He chased a girl,” A third voice said, low and even, like wet gray sand, though the edges of it trembled.
“A girl,” the fire voice sneered. “You disgust me.”
“I didn’t know she’d fall in –“
“She was your responsibility!” Fire shouted so loudly it echoed. “She trusted you, and you abandoned her, and if she’s permanently hurt I swear to God, whether you’re my brother or not I will tear your spine out through your throat –“
Something soft was beneath me – not the pillows, something more solid than that. I opened my eyes, the air so cold. My body felt wet all over, pools of it staining the bedsheets beneath me. I was in a room, hazy people gathered around me. Someone sat on the bed next to me, someone huge and broad, and two people stood, shouting at each other.
“B-Burn?” I tried. My voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk. The figure looked at me. My vision cleared – it was Burn, his face softening with worry.
“There you are. Are you alright?”
I laughed, though it hurt. “I feel like shit.”
He grinned a small grin at our inside joke, and helped me sit up, slowly. The change in elevation made my lungs squeeze, and I started coughing. I couldn’t stop, the coughs wracked my body. He handed me a glass of water, and I drank greedily.
“My throat’s on fire,” I managed. Wolf was now in front of me, green eyes burning.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” He demanded. I shook my head.
“N-No. What happened? The last thing I remember –“
I looked over at Fitz, who couldn’t meet my eyes. Wolf’s lip curled.
“Apparently Fitz gave you drugs,” He said.
“I k-know. I asked him for it.”
Burn looked surprised, for once. “You did?”
I nodded. “I couldn’t – my parents are fighting, and I had to get out so I came here. I just wanted to forget. For a little while.”
Wolf flinched. Burn stood up, putting one hand on Fitz’s shoulder.
“We’ll be outside,” He said. Fitz didn’t say anything, or even try to fight it as Burn steered him out of the room. The door closed behind them, and it was only Wolf and I left. I squinted groggily, not sure whether I was seeing Wolf’s face right. There’s no way it could be carved with worry. Not Wolf. Not about me. I reached out, slowly, thinking maybe it would be okay to touch him this once, if I did it slow. My fingers glanced along his furrowed eyebrow, and I pressed down.
“What are you doing?” He asked, and I swear I heard all the fire in his voice die to embers with those words.
“Trying - ” I pressed harder. “ - to make the worry-wrinkles - ” Another press. “ - go away.”
I thought he’d push me off. Definitely. That’s what Wolf would do. But to my surprise he enclosed my fingers with his own, guiding my hand back down to rest on the bed.
“I’m allowed to be worried about you,” He said. He smelled like cinnamon and moonlight.
“You smell good,” I said.
“Don’t change the subject,” He pressed, though his voice remained soft.
“What was the subject?” I wriggled my fingers against his palm, like a happy lizard, or a spider’s legs. “Oh, right. Worrying.”
“You fell in the pool,” Wolf said. “You passed out underwater for – I don’t know how long. Seconds. Ten? Keri saw you and screamed and I came running and –“
His hand tightened around mine.
“I thought you were dead.”
Even through my drug-haze, I felt the heaviness in that sentence. Dying. Dad could be dying. No – I didn’t want to think about that. Wolf’s mom died. He saw it. Dying people weren’t something he wanted to see ever again, probably.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, shame washing through me. “For putting you through that again.”
“Again?” Wolf narrowed his eyes. “So you know.”
“Yeah. Fitz told me.”
“Fitz has done a lot of terrible things lately,” Wolf sighed.
“Please don’t be mad at him – I asked for the drugs.”
“Yes, Bee, you did. But that doesn’t change the fact you’ve never taken anything like that before and Fitz has. Fitz should’ve known better than to give you something so strong. He should’ve known better than to leave you alone, high, at a party like this.”
I scowled, wriggling my hand free.
“Are you upset?” Wolf asked.
“I’m mad,” I said. “Because you three are always mad at each other all the time. Except Burn. He’s the only one who isn’t mad at you, even if he’s running away, but Fitz is mad at him, and you’re mad at Fitz, and for once I’d like it if you could all just talk about it like grownups instead of ignoring it until it gets bad. That’s….that’s classic evasive tactics 101. The resentment is gonna make communication impossible unless –“
“I’m mad at Fitz because his negligence hurt you.”
“Why would you care? We’re enemies.”
“We’re not enemies,” He exhaled.
“We are! You said we should be!”
“I said -” He twisted a silver ring around his finger. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, to you. About you. I’m sorry. For calling you pathetic, at Seamus’s.”
“Sorry you said it or sorry I overheard it?”
“I’m sorry for saying it. At all. It wasn’t right. And it wasn’t true.”
I studied his face. The drug was wearing off, and things started to feel less good. Thoughts started to swirl in my head, threatening to turn into that awful, screaming tornado of worst-case scenarios.
“So you don’t think I’m pathetic?” I asked finally. Wolf flinched.
“No.”
“Then why did you say it?”
“Because. Because it’s easier to pretend to hate you in front of people, than have them know the truth.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “What truth?”
Wolf spun his ring faster. “I – I have to tell you, about Mark. You deserve to know.”
“Wolf, if it makes you uncomfortable –“
“I had a crush on him,” He blurted. “From the moment he entered the school. I was…drawn to him, in a way I’d never been drawn to anyone before. I thought it wa
Wolf swallowed, his ring a blinding arc of silver catching the low lamplight.
“- You loved him,” I offered. Wolf nodded, just once and hard.
“But he didn’t feel the same way. When I told him, he –” Wolf’s broad shoulders began to tremble, so minutely I barely caught it. “ - he changed. Completely. He taunted me about it. He beat me up about it. He said he’d tell the whole school I was a –”
I flinched, Mark’s nasty slur from that day at the pool echoing in my memories. Wolf cleared his throat.
“He held it over me. He used it to manipulate me into doing whatever he wanted. And the worst part was I never felt like taking it back. I still loved him, no matter how hard he hit, or how much he yelled. No matter how bad it got, I kept thinking I could change him, back to the way he was. That if I just took it, agreed with him, let him do what he wanted, he’d change back into the person I fell for at the beginning. I was so blind. At my lowest, every time he’d get done beating the shit out of me I’d think to myself ‘good, maybe now he’ll relax and calm down’. That’s how bad it was.”
“Wolf –“
“And then,” Wolf spun the ring even faster. “And then I got sick of it. All at once, I realized nothing was going to change. He was going to keep being that way, and there was no amount of punches I could take before he’d turn back. And he realized that I’d figured it out, that his hold on me was weakening, so he started saying he’d kill himself. That if I left him, he’d kill himself and his death would be my fault.”
My chest constricted so tightly it was hard to breathe.
“And I stayed awake every night after that,” Wolf gritted his teeth. “Lying in bed, wondering if he was slicing his arm open at that very moment. Every second I was away from him was a second he was killing himself. I couldn’t sleep. I stopped eating.”
“Did Fitz, or Burn –“
“They couldn’t do anything. I wouldn’t let them,” He said quickly. “I was afraid if anyone else interfered, it would set Mark off and he’d die because of me.”
The hurt in my chest moved to my heart. “And then you…punched him.”