Firegirl: Chapters 13–20

There was nothing I could do. I had to follow her. It smelled a little like a doctor’s office as I hit the landing. The smell was antiseptic. But there was something else, too. Something sweeter. I stepped into her room.

A glint of salve or some kind of cream was on her cheeks and neck.

"...But sometimes I think it’s probably better to have a really dumb power.”
“A dumb power,” she repeated.
“Something really dorky and useless, like, I don’t know, having one indestructible finger or something. I think that would be really cool.”

Words formed in my head, but they got all garbled on my tongue.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Feeney said, slumping again into his chair and letting out a huge breath. “Did Jessica play a trick on you?”
My chest heaved suddenly, and my throat felt thick. I shook my head. That wasn’t it. That’s not what happened.

He seemed to go inside himself, but then he started rambling around and around for a while as if he didn’t want to go over the old story and didn’t want to say all the words again, but couldn’t stop himself.

Sometime when Jessica was in the sixth grade, she and her mother had gone to a place called World of Dance or Dance World to pick up tickets for a recital Jessica was in.

“Her lungs were badly damaged. The circulation in her legs. But I couldn’t imagine going on without her around. We love Jessica. More now than ever before. We’re glad she’s alive. That’s pretty much it.”

Something cold dripped through me. It was like a trickle of ice seeping down my throat and into my chest.

Joey nominated himself then retracted it, naming Eric LoBianco instead and laughing through it all.

My stomach churned. I felt cold.

Ryan collected the votes and Kayla tallied them. Mrs. Tracy laughed and said that Kayla’s skill in math would probably not be strained by counting only twenty-one slips of paper. Then the teacher recounted them herself and gave them back to Kayla to announce.

“Courtney won seven votes,” she said. There were cheers and applause. Ryan collected the votes and Kayla tallied them. Mrs. Tracy laughed and said that Kayla’s skill in math would probably not be strained by counting only twenty-one slips of paper. Then the teacher recounted them herself and gave them back to Kayla to announce.

The engine sputtered and popped like gunshots. The street vibrated under me, and the thundering went up my legs.

Jessica looked at her mother and then pulled something green from the opening of the duffel bag. It was the stuffed frog she’d shown me the night before. She plopped the frog on her mother’s arm suddenly. Then she hopped it jerkily across her mother’s shoulder to her cheek and leaned it in as if it gave her a kiss. After a moment, she pulled it back, nuzzled it for a second, and then put it into the bag.