“Small” Fire

The high school was on fire, and it was entirely my fault.

Okay, not entirely. Let’s give me a little credit. A solid 80-20. Alright, fine, probably 90-10, the 90 being me and the 10 being my best friend Nick – who was conveniently nowhere to be found.

I stood in the parking lot of the school, staring up at the blaze. It was a thing of beauty, really, if you didn’t mind the criminal element of the arson of it all. The intense heat was blistering even from this distance, and tall gold and red flames danced throughout the building, reaching up beyond the roof and into the sky, as if aiming for the stars.

And, of course, it was nice that of all buildings in town, it was the high school. Who hasn’t wanted to burn down their high school at least once? Sure, adults would panic, but I could predict that all the students would be thrilled in the morning when they heard the news that school was canceled because, oh, shit, oops, there is no school. Having just graduated last year, part of me wished someone had thought of this earlier, so that I could’ve been one of the lucky ones who heard the news and blissfully got to go back to bed for another five or six hours.

I was glad Nick had suggested it. He’d always been an interesting kid; we’d been friends since grade school. We’d been at different colleges so far this year, but neither was far, so we’d seen each other around. This week we were both home for fall break, and we spent some time together, and, well, you know how that goes. One minute we’re drinking and watching anime, and the next we’re burning down a building. Classic college freshmen, am I right.

Come to think of it, it was a little surprising Nick had suggested this. I mean, he’d hated high school too. We both did. We didn’t exactly have a lot of friends. And Nick was odd, sure, but more in the I speak Klingon as second language and have already forgotten more about physics than you will ever know kind of way. He was obsessed with quarks and neutrinos and whatever the hell else physics was, and would probably win a Nobel prize someday.

Not if he gets arrested for arson, I thought, and couldn’t help it – I chuckled.

Me, on the other hand? Nah, I was more normal, but somehow I just never attracted people enough to make friends. Now, I’ll be the first to admit, I was a little dark and brooding, and I didn’t talk much, except to talk about death and crime statistics. Serial killer trivia? Sign me up. All the local crime rates and cold cases? I knew every detail. Partially from breaking into the police station when I was eleven, but don’t quote me on that. As far as the cops know, it never happened.

But you know what, goddammit, I was more normal than Nick, no matter what everyone else said. Just because people called you a creep and were scared you’d grow up to be a murderer, didn’t mean they were right. Just that they were idiots.

I mean, okay, they were right about the criminal predictions. I’d stolen a hell of a lot of stuff throughout high school, broken in a few places, might’ve mugged a few people. But what high school kid hasn’t done that? No one ever caught me, anyway, so clearly it can’t have been that bad.

And now they were right about the arson. Oh, well. They’d be grateful. I could picture it now: the crowd of hormone-driven, caffeine-powered teenagers cheering for me, screaming my name, calling out, Oh, Tristan, you saved us! We were wrong about you! You committed arson like we all expected, but it was for the greater good! Thank you, Tristan, thank you! Our hero!

Yes, that’s exactly what they’d say. This was a great idea Nick had. Surely he wouldn’t mind giving me all the credit. It was basically 90-10 me. I was starting to be proud of that now. Nick wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and he might have suggested it, but I’d done all the hard work. Just minutes before, I’d gone through the entire building – a place I’d hoped to never set foot again – and poured gasoline throughout the hallways, classrooms, bathrooms. I’d chosen the best locations for maximum impact and set aflame the gasoline at those places. And now, the fruit of our – mostly my – labor: the high school blazing before my eyes, smoke billowing upwards in great, thick clouds.

I could hear sirens start up in the distance, but they were still several minutes away; the fire station was on the other side of town. I could watch for a bit longer. I smiled as I stared at the flames. Best idea Nick had ever had since I’d met him. And, if I say so myself, even better execution on my part.

Suddenly, Nick appeared, running from the side parking lot by the fields, where we’d agreed to park his Jeep for easier getaway. He was shouting something, looking angry and shocked, but I tuned him out and turned back to the dancing fire. I could predict that the whole building would collapse in a minute, maybe two.

Nick was at my side now. He shook me violently, and I finally looked back at him. “What?” I said, annoyed.

Nick stared back at me incredulously, his eyes even larger than usual behind his glasses. “Small fire! I said to set a small fire! This is not small!” He gestured wildly in the direction of the high school.

I frowned. I could’ve sworn Nick had told me to set a grand fire to destroy the whole building. “No you didn’t,” I said firmly.

“Yes I did! I just wanted you to set a small fire in the physics lab to get rid of my research! I told you, that stupid kid Ryan stole my work and was using it for his semester project to graduate and I just wanted to burn all the stuff he has so he can’t plagiarize me! I told you that! So what the actual hell is this, Tristan!” He gestured vaguely at the school again.

Huh. Come to think of it, he might have said that. I might have been the one to interpret it to mean burn the building. Probably because I’d wanted to burn the whole building. And, if we were being practical, I had done what he’d asked. I’d just done a little extra. Nick should be impressed. It was the first time ever I’d gone above and beyond on any assignment.

I ignored his question. It was about to collapse. “Wait for it,” I said, grinning.

Sure enough, within seconds there was a loud groaning noise, and then sparks flew and flames blossomed as the school caved in. I watched, smiling, and when it was more or less entirely defeated, albeit still smoldering, I turned to Nick and gave a little bow. “A work of art. You’re welcome,” I said.

He stared at me. I’ve never been good at reading people, but even I could see the shock and disgust written clear on his face. He took a step back. “You’re insane, Tristan. People always told me to stop hanging out with you because you were crazy, but I always just thought you were weird in your own way, like me. But they were right! You’re actually insane. Like, ‘belong in an institution or jail’ insane.”

I laughed. “Aw, come on, it’s just a little arson. I’ve been wanting to do this for years. You can’t tell me every high school student doesn’t dream of this at some point!”

He shook his head. “Yeah, maybe, but no one would ever actually do it! And not with such – such – sadistic joy, or whatever this is!”

The sirens were close now. No doubt they’d be bringing the cops too. That was fine. I’d done what I came here to do. And if they caught me, I knew I could escape. I was already imagining what I could do next. This had been so easy. Surely it would be no harder to burn down a university building, or to find someone alone at night and –

Nick was talking again. “You’re sick, Tristan. I said a small fire, and you turned it into full-on arson!”

I grinned. “I know. Extra credit, am I right?”

Sirens were almost here. Nick suddenly looked panicked. “You’re insane. But you know what, I’ve got to get out of here. I’m not being blamed for something you did.”

At his words, fire suddenly raged within me, matching the smoking flames in the ruins of the school. How dare he say that? Of course he wouldn’t be allowed to take credit for something I did. It was my doing. Honestly, the idea had barely even been his, if I thought about it.

Nick was already running away, but I picked up a rock at my feet and threw it at him. It hit him in the shoulder; I saw him buckle, stumble, but then keep running, towards his car. I continued to stand there, watching him leave, watching the flames lick the piles of stone and ash that had once been the high school. In my peripheral vision I saw flashing blue lights.

“Like I’d give you any piece of the credit!” I shouted. He paused at the edge of the parking lot, looking back at me. “It’s 90-10, at most!”

I could have sworn he shook his head, but then he was gone, turning the corner and fleeing to his Jeep.

As cops and firefighters swarmed around me and someone clasped handcuffs around my wrists, I paid little attention. The glow of the fire filled my eyes, dancing crimsons and golds. And I smiled. Couldn’t stop smiling.

Because you know what? I was right the first time. I wanted credit for this. I wanted the recognition. “Small fire,” my ass. Nick didn’t deserve any credit.

The high school was destroyed, and it was entirely my fault. 100-0, in favor of me.

Let’s give a little credit where credit is due.