Imdalind 01 - Kiss of Fire

large room; even my jaw fell in surprise at her forwardness.
    Cynthia stood still as Wyn pushed past her, grabbed my hand and pulled me to sit front and center in the room.
    “Thanks,” I whispered as we sat.
    “No problem, anything for a friend.” Wyn flashed me a wide smile before turning to face Ms. Flowers who was now beginning her lecture on the senior showcase, in which Hamlet would be featured.
    I am not sure how much I heard of what she said; I kept looking toward Cynthia who was still fuming. Ms. Flowers caught my attention as she began to prepare for the show by separating everyone into groups: the cast of the show, costumes, set, and props. Each group sat together, the cast with their noses upturned. I rolled my eyes at them and moved to stand by Wyn in the “set” group.
    We spent the rest of class reading through the script and making a list of set pieces. No one in our small group was excited about our task, and with five minutes to go, we had broken off into different conversations.
    “Thank goodness school is almost over. I have about a season worth of Castle to catch up on,” Wyn moaned as she threw herself back onto the rough carpet we sat on.
    “Castle?” I asked.
    She raised her eyebrow at me as if I had committed some form of heresy by not knowing what she was talking about.
    “Yes, Castle. The TV show. Crime drama - starring Nathan Fillion: only the yummiest man to grace the screens of television.” She gasped at my obvious lack of understanding.
    I had no idea what she was talking about.
    “At least tell me you know what ‘Firefly’ is?” she pleaded.
    “I don’t watch TV, Wyn. I mean, I turn it on sometimes, but I never really watch it.”
    “I’m going to educate you. You need a good dose of several of life’s necessities. Besides, Nathan Fillion is really nice to look at.”
    I laughed, the bell drowning out the sound of my voice.
    We left the room and retrieved our boards from the office. By the time we got outside, word of Wyn’s confrontation with Cynthia had spread and students were giving her thumbs-ups and high-fives as they passed. All the attention went into Wyn like energy from a live wire and soon she was bouncing up and down. I laughed as I watched her, her enthusiasm leaking over into me.
    “I can’t believe I did that,” she repeated for the hundredth time.
    “Well, it seems to have gone over well with the student body.” I laughed as yet another student waved to her. Our school did not have a small campus, and word must have traveled faster than usual. I couldn’t help but laugh as she bounced around yet again, adrenaline from her conflict with Cynthia still coursing through her.
    “Oh, yes, well done.” I could recognize that sneer from a mile away. “So, you and your foul mouth seem to have made you a few admirers.”
    We both turned to face Cynthia McFadden who was surrounded by half the football team once again. The moment Cynthia spoke, an eager group of onlookers materialized out of thin air, hoping for some action. I took a step behind Wyn out of habit.
    Wyn opened her mouth to say something, but we never found out what. All the football players gathered behind Cynthia began to point away from us, several of them taking off in that direction. Cynthia looked like an angry kitten at her posse’s departure. But when she turned, her little fit stopped and she began to smooth her hair. I turned my head toward what everyone was staring open-mouthed at and my heart plummeted to my toes.
    A bright, yellow sports car I knew all too well had pulled into the teachers’ parking lot. Ryland leapt out of the car, his dark, curly hair bouncing. He pulled off his Whittier Academy blazer and draped it over one shoulder, revealing a tight-fitting, white V-neck T-shirt, which showcased his strong arms. He looked like an ad for cologne or men’s underwear. My heart kicked into overdrive; I couldn’t move.
    “Oh no, oh no no no,” I groaned, causing Wyn’s head to whip in my direction. “He promised he wouldn’t…”
    “Do you know him?” she asked, her voice laced with a combination of entertainment and worry.
    I couldn’t bring myself to answer her, only nod numbly as Ryland scanned the crowd for me.
    “Well, I will leave you to it then,” she said. “See you tomorrow, Joclyn.”
    I didn’t even register Wyn’s departure; I was still staring at Ryland as he searched for me. He glossed over most of the student body, giving them all a chance