Feed the Flames

--celine’s pov--

My parents used to frequently ask if I was depressed. I never quite knew why. They were always so concerned about whether I was lonely or in a constant state of upset over something. They used to encourage my reading, saying it was great that I read so much every day and had been reading for so long. Thinking about that, I got sad as I looked around my room. Back at home, my house was large. Large enough for an entire library, and yet I had still filled that up before I was twelve. Then I had my room renovated. Bookshelves on every side, against every wall, and yet still I had books stacked on the floor. I had only been able to bring a small portion of my collection. Really not even a small portion.

Books were what I had growing up. They were all I never needed; stories upon stories upon stories, some continuing over many books, others only spanning one novel. Some reminded me of others, some were completely new and foreign to me. I loved some authors for the world’s they created, but I always hated when a series was broken by a new author taking over. For instance a particular series by Drew Karpyshyn was amazing in my eyes. It was perfect, and then a second author took over, only for one book, and there my hate for William C. Dietz took hold as he trashed characters and lore and made a blasphemous stain on a series I had loved.

There were good authors and bad authors, just like there were good books and bad books. But I still read them all.

Just like favorite authors, I also had favorite reading places. One place in particular ever since I got to this school. That place would have been the bundle of trees in the courtyard, but that door was on an alarm system that I had just barely noticed my first night in the school. I explored the school at night for many days after I first got here. Since I was small and quiet and essentially a ghost among the halls, I was able to slip around the shadows with no resistance.

One thing that had caught my eye when I first went exploring was at the end of the teacher’s hall at the very top of the building was a door with a large handprint lock on it. Handprint locks were only reserved for doors that no student would ever need to access and as the name suggested, required an entire handprint. It no doubt had the handprints of just school staff and janitors registered, but then I noticed a secondary pad next to the handprint pad. It was a fingerprint pad. A sort of second security system, I guessed.

The second night I explored on campus I had managed to disarm both with a pair of pliers and a screwdriver. The door had been opened ever since, and no one had noticed. Behind the door was a set of stairs leading up to the right, and at the top of those, a door that led out to the roof.

As I opened that door tonight, I took a deep breath in, letting cool, cleaner smelling air rush into my lungs, and I couldn’t help but smile. I walked over to the edge of the building and sat down, letting my legs dangle off the side. I looked around for a second, feeling serene. This was my alternative to sleep.

Directly below me was the courtyard, and I would love to come up during the day just to watch students scramble from here to there like ants, but I hardly got the chance. Spread out before me were trees; for miles and miles, nothing but trees, only being broken by mountains in the far distance. Everything felt so alive, and that was just perfect to me.

Dropping my messenger bag on the ledge next to me, I dug around in it for my book. As I opened ‘The Calling’, I was halfway through it. I may finish it tonight if I didn’t waste any more time taking in scenery.

Suddenly a foot stepped up onto the ledge next to me, followed by another. “Wow, this is…beautiful.” I didn’t care how he followed me. I didn’t care why he was here. I did not care. I kept my eyes in my book, ignoring Frank. As he stood next to me, I could feel him look down at me, but I kept my mind on the words. Even though I couldn’t concentrate enough to even get through a sentence. He sat down on the ledge, his back to the scenery and my grey messenger bag between us. “Sorry about lunch today,” He began then quietly. “I figured perhaps you’d like to eat with people for a change but you’re…really not a people person, huh?”

I shook my head finally, and then pulled my shoulders up slightly, hunching down into the mass market paperback in my hands. “So, can I get a name yet?” He asked, and I looked over at him then, furrowing my eyebrows in questioning. I figured surely at lunch he had interrogated Ronan about me, but maybe not? Frank smiled, and the gesture met his eyes, which were just visible enough in the moonlight. I closed my book, remembering my page, and grabbed a sketchbook out of my messenger bag, and reached all the way to the bottom to find a pen. He watched me with a curiosity as I began writing on a corner of a blank piece of paper. I ripped the corner off and gave it to him.

“Oh okay. Words. Didn’t quite expect that, though you also don’t look like the type to draw a dick and send it to me.” He looked down at the piece of paper, and began reading out loud. “A name says too much about a person. It tells a complete stranger too much about something they shouldn’t be interested in.” He smiled crookedly, his eyes going over the words again. “Well, first, for someone so pretty, your handwriting is like chicken scratch,” He laughed, and I ducked my head slightly, letting my hair fall around my face, hiding the smile his words brought me. It was true though. I wrote so fast my handwriting was a mess. “Second of all,” He began as his laughter died. “Celine doesn’t tell me much without a last name.” I slowly looked over at him then, hesitantly, and he was still smiling. “Ronan told me at lunch. But, you could have a boring last name like Smith, or a business sounding name like Hills, or, you could have some strange last name like Deloren or Bracosia.”

I let out a heavy breath through my nose, and looked out over the trees for a second. I looked back to the sketchbook, and wrote down my last name before tearing off the slip. I handed it to him, and he looked down at it for only a second before his eyes met mine, and he took it from my fingers.

Looking down at the slip, he nodded. “Celine Pavus.” He whispered, sounding as if he was lost in thought for a moment before he looked back at me. “Now, that kind of name suggests you come from wealth, I believe. Maybe a big mansion with parents who slave over your every whim?” He suggested, and I hesitantly nodded, knowing that would be the conclusion he drew. Celine Pavus was that kind of name. “But, while that tells me what kind of person to think you are, Cell tells me much more.” I tilted my head slightly, but then sighed, knowing Ronan told him. But I was curious for him to continue.

“The fact that you shortened such a beautiful name to something so simple tells me that Celine Pavus was just too flashy for you. You don’t like flashy things or anything that draws attention to you.” He smirked then and I knew he was aware he was on the correct track. “You don’t speak to people, you walk through the halls like an apparition, you are ignored and while Celine Pavus sounds like the kind of person to despise being ignored, Cell…Cell is short, one syllable; a short name so someone doesn’t have to spend too much time pronouncing it. When people see you their eyes don’t linger, they only catch maybe a glimpse at you but they think nothing more about the young girl with brown hair that falls around her face and hides her identity.” His voice got quiet then, but his tone was fascinated. “That’s who you are. Nonexistent.” I looked down at the courtyard below me; almost alarmed at how he had summed up the way I wanted to not exist.

Slowly nodding, I looked at him again, and he was still smiling. I went back to the sketchbook in my lap, and wrote down a few sentences before tearing off the strip of paper and handing it to him. He read it out loud again. “Thirty-seven point two trillion cells make up the adult human body. You literally can’t get any more generic than a cell. Cells are everywhere.” He let that smile slip finally as he returned his gaze to me. “But what I don’t understand is why you want to blend in. Why do you want to be just a cell?”

Turning my eyes back to the courtyard, I didn’t nod, I didn’t shrug, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t answer him as I felt my chest grow tighter by the second, and I had to force the thought from my mind. Frank seemed to notice this.

“I-I’m sorry, now I just feel like I’ve upset you.” He looked down and then stood quickly, but I turned towards him just as fast, noticing how he felt the need to leave. “I’ll see you-”

With a sharp intake of breath, I reached out but then clenched my fist, stopping myself and bringing my hand back and he looked at me, like he was wondering what I was doing, what I was trying to tell him. I…I didn’t know myself. I just wanted to sit with him. I wanted to sit and listen to him running his mouth and asking me questions but…why?

“Stay.” I whispered, the word nearly choking me, and he smiled again, softer now. It wasn’t cocky and it wasn’t a smirk as he sat down next to me again, swinging his legs off the side of the building as well, clasping his hands in his lap. I smiled though I tried not to, and put the sketchbook away, grabbing my book from on top of my messenger bag and opening it to the page I was on.

Frank seemed content with this, offering a small sigh as he kept a peaceful smile on his face, looking out over the trees as I read. The sun was nearly coming up when my phone began going off, and I started putting my book away, standing up on the ledge before I dug my phone from my pocket, turning the alarm off before stepping down onto the roof. I grabbed my book bag and Frank looked at me, like he wanted to ask me something, but couldn’t find the words. I found that slightly amusing. The guy who always seemingly had something to say appeared at a loss for words. “Can I sit with you at lunch? I mean, if you don’t mind the company, that is.” I took a moment, wondering if I wanted to give up my silence at lunch, but he seemed fine just sitting with me.

I nodded after a moment of silence, and he grinned. “I’ll see you at lunch, then.” He whispered, and I nodded again before I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked off towards the stairwell.

The teachers would already be into their own classes and so the hall would be clear. I was still in my uniform from yesterday. I didn’t see a reason to change, all I needed to do was go gather my books for all my classes before lunch, and for once, I felt myself almost looking forward to leading Ronan around the school. She had been quiet yesterday mostly, only asking questions that I could reply to with a ‘yes’ head nod or a ‘no’ head shake.
______

The beginning of the day was more or less the same than the last. Ronan asked hardly any questions though and I felt she was getting to know her way now at least. When lunch came we got our food, but after I got mine, I silently left Ronan to get swallowed up by the lunch crowd as I made my way out to the courtyard. Gliding through the trees and the winding path unnoticed, I finally got to the bundle of trees. Sitting with my legs crossed, I took off my messenger bag. I brought it for the first half of the day and lugged it around because I had more binders and books to carry. It put too much stress on my shoulder to carry it through the entirety of the day, however.

I ate fast, not paying much attention to exactly what I was eating and forcing myself to not make a face when I accidentally followed a bite of green beans with banana pudding. I was nearly finished eating just as I heard footsteps approaching, and I paused, looking up, hoping it was Frank and not someone else. I was relieved when it was just him. I was in a constant state of fear that someone else would discover my spot, and I wasn’t too keen on sharing it, but sharing it with Frank seemed almost okay. He seemed decent enough. He didn’t force me to speak and get angry when I didn’t or I just answered with a nod. If anything he seemed to be totally fine with it.

“Well,” He sat down against the tree next to me, his lunch tray on his lap. “I admit there was a moment on the way here when I didn’t think I’d find you here.” He smiled slightly, cracking open the soda on his tray. “I saw Ronan in the crowd, it looked like she was heading for the guys’ table, but I don’t think she saw me.”

I nodded, and we sat in silence for a moment before he spoke up. “So, while I made a few assumptions about your life last night, I never quite got a conformation on how right or wrong I was.” I looked over at Frank at this, and he eyed me for a second. “Was I right about the mansion and parents who slave over your every desire?”

Nodding, I didn’t look away from him. “Do you have any brothers or siblings of any kind?” He asked then, eating a bite from the burger on his plate and I shook my head. “What about friends back…wherever you’re from?” I shook my head at that, and he raised his eyebrows. “Well, I can’t say I expected you to be a socialite.”

I smiled as I nodded at that, as true as it was. I looked like a socialite from afar if I lifted my head and actually looked like a decent human, but it was quite the contrary.

“So, let me get this straight,” Frank sat back against the tree, looking at me with almost amusement in his eyes. “Only child, no friends back home and no friends here either?” I shook my head sheepishly, returning my eyes to the food in front of me, but I saw Frank smile a bit out of the corner of my eye. “Well then maybe I can be a friend.” I was forced to look at him then, wondering why he’d even want to consider himself a friend of mine.

But then I took note of the sincerity on his face, and tentatively, I nodded again, but in the moment I felt that in exchange for his offer of friendship, he deserved a bit more than a nod. “Perhaps.”

Notes