Chapter 3: Through the Flames

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III. 

So we stayed. And damn did it feel good.

"So what are we supposed to talk about now?" Lauren asked, setting her plate down and shuffling into the seat opposite me. We had found a corner booth and seated ourselves, then took to the buffet to fix the gnawing hunger pains. I was already knee deep in my own plateful of lovingly smothered butter chicken as she questioned me.

"I dunno." I mumbled. "Are we going to do the thing where we sappily share our troubled backgrounds and harrowing life stories?"

Lauren looked down. "I don't think you want to know about my life." She admitted, almost sullenly. "Trust me."

"I probably don't." I agreed with a teasing note. The gears turned in her head for a few seconds before she spoke again.

"What do you like to do in your free time? Tell me about your hobbies."

"Mm... okay." I swallowed what I was chewing. "I like to create things. I like to write stories, poems... sometimes just journal entries. Really whatever's on my mind at the time - it usually looks better on paper."

Lauren lifted an eyebrow at me, then a fork to her lips. "Ah, so you're one of those deprived artists that tries to promote themselves on the cracked walls of coffee shops and dusty basement open mic nights?"

I rolled my eyes. "Hardly. I just do it for fun."

"So can I read some of the stuff you write?"

At that, my eyes widened playfully. "Wow... if want to do that you'll have to do a little more than take me out. Maybe a drink or two would do the trick."

Lauren propped her legs up on my side of the booth, the ball of her foot just nudging my thigh. "I really hope I get the chance to do that one day."

"Keep up the charm, and you will." I replied happily, polishing off whatever else was on my plate before getting up again. Her eyes were on me as I sauntered back up to retrieve more food, and I definitely didn't hate the feeling.

We managed to keep up the small talk through the rest of the dinner. I drifted from the topic of my writing over to school, explaining that I was in my last year of high school, and that the majority of kids I shared classes with were complete idiots. I told her about how I spent most of my sophomore year in the principal's office, and how it was at one point something I was more than proud of. She sympathized, happily listening to most of it and eating through the rest.

I was about to get up and fix some leftovers for Shawn, when a shrill scream seared through the restaurant and all head swivelled to a small booth by the window. Lauren and I both craned our necks with worry, and only seconds later she had risen to her feet to get a better look.

"What's going on?" I scrambled up to my knees, hands pressed at the back of the booth.

"Someone!" A woman screamed again, then started slamming her fists on the surface of building's rain spattered window. "That car turned over, it's on fire! Someone needs to help!"

I watched as a waitress dashed forward and tried to calm the woman down, while at the same time taking a look out the window. A few others had gathered around now, some with their phone cameras out, others with their devices to their ears. Lauren was at my side in a matter of seconds, her brow furrowed in concern.

"That car." Lauren jerked her chin to the only small space of the window that wasn't covered in curious diners. "It's been in an accident."

My eyes slowly swung to the window, and what I saw had my stomach drop two feet in my body. The vehicle outside was on its head, the roof and interior caved into the pavement of the road aggressively. To top it all off, the base and insides of the car were completely ablaze, and despite the rather pounding rain, the flames weren't petering out.

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