Set Alight

Chapter 1

Fifteen And Some Years Later: Emma

"Emma." My dad drops his cell phone onto the counter and rushes forward, throwing his arms around me. "I was so worried." He pushes me back and looks sternly at me. "Where were you?"

"Dad," I begin soothingly. "I was just coming a different way home from school. It's supposed to create new neuron pathways through your mind. To get smarter." I pull my How to Strengthen Your IQ book and show it to him. "I didn't realize it'd make me-" I glance at my watch. "Wow. Four minutes late."

"Do not stray from your pattern," he lectures. "It is good to stay the same. Why must you have new neuron pathways? You're smart enough. Count your blessings. Many don't have the amount you have. Don't mock what intelligence you already have by impatiently demanding more."

That was a lot of advice for one lecture. I must've really worried him. I repeat the commands in my mind so I don't forget them. Don't change my patterns. Stay the same. I'm smart enough. Count my blessings. Don't mock my blessings. "Got it, Dad." A whisper of doubt clings to the side of my mind. I get rid of it by storing today's reactions and lessons right on top of it.

There. Squished like a bug.

Dad takes my book and places it on the counter, a very familiar and clear gesture: It's not your's now, it's mine.

I nod to him, and he waves me away dismissively. I walk purposefully up to my room and withdraw homework from my bag. There isn't much. Working on it only takes forty-five minutes, much less than I was expecting- and hoping.

Replacing the sheets of paper, I lay on my bed, hands intertwined and lying on my stomach. Dad took my book. I have nothing to do with myself. I try taking a fifteen minute nap, but I wasn't tired in the first place, so I don't feel much energized.

I'm thumbing through a Zen book my Dad got me for my birthday when Lindsey texts me, asking if I want to hang out, at her house.

Finally, I reply before standing.

"Dad?" I call softly, climbing down the stairs. He's in his office, working on something I can't see. He closes the laptop and turns to me, impatient, expectant. "May I go over to Lindsey's until dinner?"

"Can she come here?" he asks, leaning forward a little bit. It's the same every time. She comes over, we hang out until dinner.

I think back to my book. Then to my father's words. Don't mock your intelligence by demanding more. I've never been to Lindsey's house. It's a new experience. "She wants to hang out at her house," I say dully. Not a lie, not an answer.

He mulls it over for a minute. "I don't want you to get hurt," he says after a moment, in my same dull tone. That work must be important, if he's letting me out...

"I will be careful."

"Be home at six o'clock, sharp," he mutters, turning dismissively. A zing of victory runs through me.

I nod impassively and close the door behind me, my heart suddenly racing. I've only ever seen the outside of her house when walking home from school. I've never been inside! I grab my backpack and hurry out the front door, worried he'll change his mind if I dawdle (as he'd say).

Hurrying down the street, I try to thumb a response to Lindsey without crashing into anyone/thing. It takes me all of two minutes to reach her house and knock hesitantly on her door.

"Em!" Lindsey cries, flinging the door open. "You've never been here before! I can't believe your dad would ever let you out of the house for any reason ever!" Lindsey isn't very fond of my dad. She says he's... stifling. Whatever that means.