Fire
Lois Fogg
Email: SireneCall@hotmail.com
PG-13

Chapter Four: Another World

	I walked through the next week in a haze of delirium.
Sometimes I was explosively happy, and at others I was irrepressibly
sad. I was always confused. Darien’s actions on the secluded beach had
confused me, and no matter how much I thought about it, I still did not
understand what had happened. Although I was a virgin, I had wanted
him so badly that night. I knew that he had wanted me too, and from
what I had heard, I had not thought he had any qualms about it. But he
had stopped, and left me to grasp at the pieces of our desire. We had
not gone nearly so far since then, in fact, we had not had the chance. It
was strange, actually meeting him on campus—I had always associated
him with the ice cream parlor. But we could not seem to get away from
each other, and were together nearly every spare moment. It was those
times with him that I was happiest, existing as a whole person. It really
did seem that I was not quite complete without him, like I was an
unfinished poem, or an open circle. He completed me and made me
full. But he confused me and was different from me in ways I could not
understand. I knew that behind those eyes lurked a painful past that he
refused to talk about, even to me. I needed to know. He was hurting,
and I could tell, no matter how well he hid it, that something in our
relationship was slowly destroying him. We kissed like we were
drowning, and the other was our only insurance against death. Perhaps,
on some emotional level, it was true.
	But then it was exam week, and even lovers had to study.
Amy was hard pressed to keep my attention on the subject, and she
refused to allow us to study at Glifford’s, knowing that she would lose
me entirely. We only reviewed Shakespeare as a treat, since she knew
perfectly well that that was my best subject. Chemistry received
considerably more attention, to my annoyance. Mina felt like I did
about the subject, but we dutifully balanced equations and formed
orbitals. Raye had decided to come and study with us as well, and the
four of us became permanent fixtures of the library that week.
	“Serena,” Mina said, during one of our breaks, “I still can’t get
over how romantic you and Darien are. Everyone’s talking about you
two, you know.”
	“Mina!” Amy exclaimed. She was just as curious as the rest of
them, but hid it better. “Don’t harass her!”
	“I don’t mind, Amy.” I said, actually relieved to be able to
discuss Darien again.
	“Well, I always *knew* it was going to happen.” Mina
continued, looking smug. “Anyone could tell from the way you guys
look at each other that it was meant to be.”
	I blushed, but felt inexplicably grateful that she thought so. As
unsubtle as Mina could be, she was usually right on the mark about
these things. Raye, who had not looked up during our conversation,
made some sort of noise after Mina’s remark.
	“What’s that, Raye?” I asked, turning to her. She had been
behaving oddly ever since that night at the ice cream parlor.
	“Never mind.” She muttered, and buried her face inside her
textbook.
	Amy, unexpectedly, broke the silence.
	“You two certainly seem happy together. Do you love him?” I
stared at her, startled at the question. But these were my friends. I could
tell them the truth, couldn’t I?
	“Yes.” I answered, finally. “More than I can handle, I think.”
Amy and Mina looked at me with perfect understanding, but we were
all startled when Raye slammed her textbook down on the table.
	“Will you saps just shut up! Just shut up already about stupid
Serena and Darien, and stupid true love!” She shouted, and everyone
else in the library stared at her in surprise. With flashing eyes, Raye
grabbed her books and stalked away.
	“What the hell was that all about?” Mina asked, staring after
her.
	“I don’t know, Serena, do you? You’re her roommate. Has she
been acting strange lately?”
	At first I was about to say no, but then I realized that they
were right. Only, I had been to involved in my dream world to notice.
“I—think so.” I said, slowly. She was jealous of Darien and me. That
was the only answer, and one I should have seen coming. She had
always looked uncomfortable when we argued back and forth in the
parlor and her expression while she was leaving the last time had been
one of disgust. She liked Darien, and I had stolen him from her.
	“Listen,” I said urgently, getting up. “I’ll go talk to her, all
right? Just wait here.” I rushed out of the library to the hallway she had
exited from. I looked up and down, but there was no sign of her. The
only other place she could be was the bathroom, so I walked inside. I
jumped when I heard someone else open the door behind me.
	“Raye?” I called, but when I turned around fully I saw who it
was. Not Raye, but Beryl , an obnoxious girl in my Shakespeare class
who I had seen Darien flirting with a couple of times. I had assumed
that she was one of his many girlfriends. Before he met me, of course,
because if I was just another one of his girls, I would never be able to
live with myself.
	“Hi Serena.” Beryl said flippantly, eyeing me with the kind of
look that made me want to glance over my shoulder to see if someone
was attacking me.
	“Hi, Beryl.” I said uncomfortably, edging towards the door.
Why was she talking to me? I had to find Raye, but she was blocking
my way out.
	“Wait a minute, Serena.” She said my name with this edge in
her voice that alarmed me. “We need to talk.”
	“No we don’t.” I insisted. “I’m busy right now, all right. We
can talk later, if it’s so important.”
	“It *is* so important.” She insisted, resolutely blocking the
door with her arms on her hips. Her red hair tumbled down her back in
a fashion that I’m sure many guys would appreciate but made me even
more annoyed.
	“Listen Beryl—“ I began, really frustrated.
	“No, you listen. I hear that you are under the impression
you’ve finally nabbed Darien.”
	“Nabbed him?” I asked incredulously. “I haven’t nabbed
anyone. We’re going out. It was a mutual agreement.”
	Beryl raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure it was. Not many girls
would refuse to go out with Darien Chiba. In fact, there are so few, that
Darien—out of the goodness of his heart, I’m sure—goes out with
several at a time. And not for very long at that.”
	My heart sank straight into my stomach. I knew that I would
have to face this some time, I knew that however sure I was of him,
every one else would think he was using me just like he had used
everyone else. If I were to be honest to myself, I would have realized
that I wasn’t quite sure of him either. I had *seen* him flirt with so
many girls, and I had heard countless stories of his exploits. I refused to
share my doubts with Beryl, however. I knew all she was trying to do
was get Darien for herself. For a moment the absurdity of the situation
struck me. I was actually fighting over a guy! Well if it had to be
anyone, I was glad that it was Darien.
	“Beryl, I don’t know what agenda you have, but it’s not going
to work. I know that Darien loves me,” actually, he had never said so,
and flinched when I did, but now was not the time to mention that
either. “And that whatever he may have done in the past, he’s not doing
it anymore. So, if you thought you could intimidate me into dumping
him so you could ‘nab’ him for yourself, you’ve got something else
coming.”
	And with that, I forced my way out the door, rewarded with
the small satisfaction of seeing Beryl completely flustered and at a loss.

	I finally found Raye, several hours later. Well, actually, she
found me. After giving up the search, I had gathered up my books and
trudged back to my dorm. The Chemistry exam was tomorrow, and I
was just as prepared as I was going to get. Despite that, I crammed
nervously for a few more hours, waiting and hoping that Raye would
come back eventually. I had to talk to her. I didn’t know what I was
going to say, but I had come to value our friendship, and I didn’t want
to see it torn apart by a guy. Finally, around eleven she walked through
the door.
	“Raye—“
	“Serena—“ We said simultaneously. We looked at each other,
and a smile cracked our faces.
	“We need to talk.” She said quietly, and sat down on her bed.
	“Yeah.” I agreed, and waited.
	“Well, I guess, I sort of had a crush on Darien.” She said
finally. I didn’t say anything. “And, not like it was very big or
anything, he’s not my type, but the more I saw you two together, the
more jealous I got. But then, I didn’t think anything would ever happen,
and when it did, I guess I got sort of angry. See, nothing like that ever
happens to me. It’s not like I *really* wanted Darien, but I *do* want
the type of romance that you have with him. And then, today, when I
had been thinking about it and getting angrier and angrier, Mina and
Amy had to start talking about it and…well, I guess I went a little
crazy.”
	I resisted the temptation to snort, but she caught my
expression.
	“All right, maybe a lot crazy. But, I can’t say that it’s all better
now, but I took a walk, I calmed down. I want to be your friend,
Serena. I really do, and I definitely don’t want some stupid guy to tear
us apart. Even though we fight sometimes, you’re pretty cool.”
	I don’t know exactly what set us off. Raye wasn’t nearly as
emotional as I, but in that moment, we suddenly burst into tears
simultaneously. We hugged each other, and for a moment, the world sat
right side up again. It was, however, a fleeting pleasure.

	The chemistry exam went remarkably well, but I left the test
knowing that science was not meant for Serena Johnston. There was
only one more exam left, and that was Shakespeare. Considering that I
knew every play we had studied practically by heart, and then some, I
wasn’t too worried. Mina, Raye and Amy, however, still had to study,
which left me with some free time on my hands and nothing to do with
it. I thought I would go and find Darien, since I hadn’t seen him for two
days, although we had called each other. He was on the pre-med track,
and taking super-advanced courses. I didn’t really want to bother him
when he needed to study, but I knew that he was having his easiest
exam last, like I was. Besides, if I didn’t see him today, he might leave
for Christmas without ever seeing me. Resolved, I ran all the way to
Johnston hall—I had always thought it a sign that his dorm hall had my
last name. I sprinted up the stairs to the top floor, too cold and
impatient to wait for the elevator. When I finally ran, gasping to his
room, I saw that the door was partly open. Calling out his name loudly
and happily, I pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked
inside.
	“It’s me, your lovely, wonder—“ I stopped mid-word when I
saw him. He wasn’t alone. He was pressed against a wall, his hands by
his sides, and on top of him was Beryl.
	They were kissing.
	I recognized this in a split instant, and already, Darien had
moved to push Beryl off of him. He shoved her ruthlessly down on the
floor and called my name. I hadn’t said anything. I hadn’t even moved.
So it was true then. Everything that Beryl had said had been true. I felt
cheated, humiliated and betrayed. I stared at him, my mouth open, but
no sounds able to form. Suddenly the world had collapsed, and it had
buried my broken body under a pile of grief.
	“Serena, it’s not like you think!” He began, running to me and
grabbing my hands. The grip galvanized me, and I wrenched mine
away.
	“Oh, isn’t it? She tried to warn me,” I pointed to Beryl, “But I
didn’t listen! I trusted you, Darien. You fucking asshole, I trusted you!
I love you, and you do this to me. You’re not worth anything!” I
screamed, tears finally streaming down my face. “Not even a piece of
trash like her!” Darien’s mouth was open, like a startled deer, and I ran
away from him, blinded by tears and anger. I heard his heavy footsteps
behind me and his voice calling my name. He sounded upset. Damn
right he should sound upset, I thought angrily to myself. I ran even
harder, trying to get away. I never wanted to see him again. Maybe I
could forget him, if I tried hard enough. Never mind that I had thought
I would kill myself if I were forced to live without him. I pounded my
way to the steps, aware of Darien right behind me. In my frantic state,
however, I was not looking where I was going. As I saw the stairs
rushing towards my face, I thought, fatalistically, that at least I would
not have to live any longer with this ripping feeling in my chest.
Unfortunately, I did not die, and I tumbled headlong down the steps.
My ankle twisted painfully beneath me, and I shrieked. Then, just as
soon as it had begun, I landed with a thud at the bottom of the stairs,
staring at the ceiling with a glazed expression.
	“Serena!” I heard Darien’s voice calling me as he rushed
down the stairs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turned my head away from
him.
	“Are you all right?” He asked urgently, gently sitting me up.
As much as I responded to the touch, I wrenched myself away from
him and sat up.
	With as much pride as I could muster, considering my
undignified position and tear-stained face, I answered. “I am fine, Mr.
Chiba.” And I attempted to stand up. However, the moment I put my
weight on my right ankle, I gasped, and would have fallen again if
Darien hadn’t caught me. Damn it! I would have to sprain my ankle at a
time like this, I thought sullenly.
	“You’re hurt.” He said, in such a way that made me look at
him. Did he care for me after all?
	“I’m fine.” I insisted, and grit my teeth as I attempted to walk
again. Since I was expecting the pain it was a little better this time, and
I walked away from him with a pronounced limp.
	“Serena, for god’s sake, you have no idea what went on in
there! Let me help you.”
	“I am not going to let a player like you,” he flinched at the
word player and I leaned against the opposite wall for support, “take
care of me. I am fine, and I do not need your help, Darien. Not now, not
ever!” I turned to walk gingerly down the rest of the steps, with the aid
of the banister, but my ankle treacherously gave out again, and I felt
Darien’s arms wrap around me.
	“Let me go!” I shouted, struggling.
	“Serena,” He said, his voice tired and hurt. “If you want to
hate me forever, go ahead. If you don’t want to listen to me, do that too.
But I will not allow you to hurt yourself any more because of me. If
you don’t let me help you, I’m going to make you, do you hear me?”
	Surprised at his show of emotion, I nodded silently. I was
surprised, but still angry. It caught me unawares when Darien put his
hand under my knees and lifted me to his chest. I gripped him
involuntarily.
	“What are you doing?” I squeaked, angry that I still felt a thrill
being so close to him. It might be harder to forget him than I thought.
	“You can’t walk, Serena. I’m taking you back to my dorm.”
He said, and with that, proceeded to walk up the stairs and back down
the hall. It was strange, I thought over the throbbing in my ankle, how
wonderfully strong he was. I wanted him to hold me forever, although I
knew the thought was dangerously anti-feminist. Beryl had obviously
left his room almost right after I had, and the door was still open. He
put me gently on the bed, and closed the door. He turned to look at me
with an expression of pain in his eyes.
	“You didn’t have to go and do that.” He said finally, pulling
out a first aid kit. “You could have tried to listen to me, Serena. It 
really
wasn’t what it looked like.”
	I wanted to believe him so badly, but I was afraid that he
would just lie to me, that I wasn’t really important to him. But perhaps
it was the way he had looked when I fell down the steps or the way he
was looking now, I just had to give him a chance.
	“All right, then, you’ve got me where you want me. I’m
trapped here. If you want to defend yourself, you might as well do it
now, because I’m sure as hell not going to listen to you any other
time.” I used the sarcasm as a defense, although I was still dangerously
close to tears.
	I was expecting him to talk, but he stayed silent for a while,
walking over to the bed, and putting the first aid kit next to him. He
picked up my foot gently, and removed the shoe and socks. He grinned
slightly, despite himself, when he saw that I was wearing two pairs of
socks. He was clinical for a while, examining my ankle and asking me
when it hurt.
	“It’s just a sprain, not too bad.” He said finally, still avoiding
my eyes. I couldn’t help but think that the way he touched my foot was
subtly sexual, sending tremors through my body. I resisted the
temptation to close my eyes. Slowly he took out an ace bandage and
wrapped my ankle with it tightly. His hands were so gentle, and each
time he touched me it felt like a stroke. It seemed, I thought suddenly,
that I was getting turned on despite myself. Finally he replaced both of
my socks and sat back on his heels. After a second he dared look up at
me. I suppose that my expression was less forbidding because he took a
deep breath and began to explain.
	“I wasn’t really kissing her—“ he said. I snorted. “Serena, you
promised you’d listen. About five minutes before you came up, Beryl
came in. She said that she had a question about the Psychology exam.
I—well, I’d been planning to tell Beryl to stop bugging me. We were
involved…a long time ago, and she just kept hanging on. Except when
I was about to say something, she started talking about you and about
how you were…using me.”
	“Using *you*?” I said incredulously. “You’re the player, not
me.”
	Darien had the courtesy to blush. “That wasn’t how she meant
it. I’ve never thought of you like that, Serena. I’ve been as, hell,
*more* celibate than a monk since I met you. Well, since the second
time I met you, at least.”
	“You still haven’t explained why you kissed her. Or didn’t
kiss her, as the case may be.”
	“I’m getting to that. So, anyway, I got mad at her. I told her
that she had no idea what you were like, and I told her to go away. I
stood up, and she just catapulted herself at me. I was about to push her
off when you came in. That was what you saw.”
	I swear I heard angels singing when he said that. Even so…
“Are you telling the truth?” I asked, in a small voice. I couldn’t handle
it if something like this happened again.
	He looked at me and smiled, as if aware how close he was to
winning me over. “What do you think?” he asked. Happy again, I sat
gingerly on the floor and put my arms around him.
	“I think I’ll never doubt you again.” I said quietly into his
chest.
	“Besides,” he said lightly, lifting my face, “you know I’m a
better kisser than that, don’t you?” He said, demonstrating.
	I laughed. “I think I’ve learned quite nicely, don’t you?”
	“Of course. We fit together perfectly.” He was joking, but his
statement rang like truth. After some time he broke off, and carried me
to the bed. For a moment I wondered if he had something more in
mind, but there was none of that kind of desire in his eyes. I sighed,
disappointed. He lay next to me and wrapped me in his arms, and I
could tell that he was fighting within himself. I knew it, and I was
scared, because this side of Darien was closed to me. I held him tighter,
wondering what he was thinking about. Finally, he kissed me, over and
over with such passion that I wondered if I had been wrong. But he
stopped, and stared straight into my eyes.
	“I love you, Usako.” He said. He loved me. I could have
jumped, or sang or cried, but I did none of that. Instead, I wiped tears
from my face.
	“Of course you do.” I said, finally. “We were meant for each
other.”
	I could not hear what he said next because it was so faint. But
it sounded something like “I hope
so.”
	And then something occurred to me. Something that had been
bugging me for a week, but I had been too preoccupied to notice.
	“What does Usako mean?”
	He looked at me, and stroked my meatballs gently. “It means
my little bunny.” He said softly.
	“Where did you learn Japanese?” I asked, after a moment of
struggle within myself. The now-familiar pain clouded his eyes.
“In another world.”

Both of our exams were in the morning. We spent the rest of
the day together, acutely aware that we would not see each other for
nearly three weeks. Although we lived about two hours away from each
other, his grandfather needed the car for errands every day, and he
needed help managing some farm expenses. I would be busy at hateful
society events with my political father, although I didn’t mention it to
Darien. The primaries were practically upon us, and I saw my father’s
face more and more often in the newspapers. Currently, he was the
second most popular Republican candidate and steadily growing. It was
funny how I was the product of a solidly GOP background, and I was
such a left wing liberal. Political arguments at our dinner table grew so
heated that dad had forbidden me from discussing politics with him
except during special circumstances. I resented being forced to behave
as some sort of trophy daughter, playing ideal subservient, attentive
child to all of the potential donors and other VIP’s. I much preferred
the company of Darien, but we knew that it couldn’t last. He was taking
the five o’clock train. My father had wanted a grand reception, so
against my will, he had booked a plane ticket for seven o’clock. I
promised Darien that I would see him off. We exchanged addresses so
we could write letters to each other, since he didn’t have email on the
farm. I got his telephone number, although I knew he probably couldn’t
afford many long-distance calls. I said goodbye to Amy, Mina and
Raye, whose flights were all later. I still had a fairly pronounced limp
from the day before, so I grabbed my suitcase and limped down the
street to where Darien was waiting for me. His face brightened when he
saw me, and we took the metro into Boston together. [AN: I don’t
know if there is a train station in Cambridge, so I just decided to use the
one in Boston.]  I discovered within myself a desire to just touch him,
every part of him, like I wanted to remember what he felt like when I
could not be with him. I breathed more deeply when he was near me,
trying to impress every subtle nuance of his smell on my memory. His
face, of course, was already so deeply etched in my mind that I could
never forget it.
“Darien, I’m going to miss you.” I said, burying my head into
his arm.
He laughed. “It’s only three weeks, we’ll survive, I’m sure,
away from our passionate embraces.” I was forced to smile. Well,
perhaps I *was* over dramatizing the situation. “But…I’ll miss you
too.” He finished.
“You make me SO happy!” I squealed. The metro ground to a
halt at the train station, and we stepped out together, arm in arm. He led
me past several terminals and up an escalator before we reached his
platform. As I looked around, I realized that I had not idea how we got
there. Not only did I have an abominable sense of direction to begin
with, but I had also been paying entirely too much attention to Darien
and not nearly enough to the path we were taking. I realized that I did
not have much of an idea of how to get back to the metro. Darien’s
train was already boarding. In fact, it was only ten minutes to five.
Darien was about to kiss me goodbye when panic got the better of me.
“Darien, wait! I don’t know how to get back to the metro!”
“What do you mean? We just walked from there.”
	I blushed. How was I supposed to say ‘I was too busy looking
at your body and trying to smell you to notice where we were going?’
Yeah right, that wouldn’t go over too well.
	“I have a bad sense of direction?” My voice went up at the
end, making it sound like a question. Darien’s mouth quirked upwards,
and I had a sinking suspicion that he knew why I hadn’t been paying
attention. Before he could say anything, though, an attendant who had
been listening in on our conversation, interrupted.
	“Um, excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing your
conversation. I would be happy to lead you back to the metro terminal
if you need some help.” I turned to him and gave him a bright smile.
	“Thank you so much! See,” I said, turning to Darien,
“everything is taken care of.”
	The man’s face changed when he saw me into an expression
of puzzlement, and then recognition. “Um, miss, would you perhaps be
Ken Johnston’s daughter?” He asked. For a second I didn’t realize why
he was asking, and then I remembered about the election. Of course, it
was inevitable that I would have some celebrity status so close to the
primaries. Darien was looking at me with a dreadfully blank expression
that made my stomach tighten even further. Plastering a phony smile
onto my face, I nodded at the man, momentarily ignoring Darien.
	“Yes, that’s me. How did you know?” I genuinely was
curious, since no one else at school had mentioned anything.
	“Well, I’m a big supporter of your father, you know, I just
think that he’s definitely the man to lead the country, and since I knew
he had a daughter at Harvard, I just thought you may be her.”
	Darien interrupted any further stream of praise the man might
have uttered by muttering a perfunctory ‘excuse me’ and dragging me
roughly aside.
	“What is it?” I asked, afraid of something I couldn’t quite
name. The train whistle was blowing. He had only a few moments
before the train left him behind.
	“Why didn’t you ever tell me that you were Ken Johnston’s
daughter?”
	“You never asked. Besides, I thought you already knew. Why
does it matter?” But I wondered if on some level, I knew why it
mattered, and that was why I had never spoken to him of it.
	“How could I have known?” His voice was low, and his grip
on my arm was painful.
	“But, you met him!” I protested, scared beyond reason. “At
the peach stand, you met my father. You’ve seen his picture, you must
have recognized him.”
	Realization dawned in his face, along with horror. “Of
course.” He muttered.  “I knew that he looked familiar. I just never put
the two together.”
	“Darien, I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re scaring me
and you’re train is going to leave in about thirty seconds.”
	He just stared at me.
	“Kiss me goodbye, please?” I begged, my eyes beginning to
feel wet. Abandoning himself, he picked me up and let his lips embrace
mine. It was not gentle like his other kisses. It was more demanding,
almost desperate. He did not look back when he put me back down
again and ran to the train. I waved anyway, as the train left the station,
leaving me alone on the platform with the strange man. Numbly, I
allowed him to lead me back to the metro. But the entire way there I
could only seem to think one coherent thought.
	What the hell had just happened?
*************
Sorry, more author’s notes. If anyone is wondering, by now, where Lita
is, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about her. She’s coming later on in
this story. I’m *still* struggling with the end, but by the time it should
be out, I’ll have it done, I promise. Okay, I’m done talking. Tell me if
you liked the story, so far! Right now, personally, it’s definitely my
favorite fanfic that I’ve ever written. Um, sorry about the little
bitterness factor in the authors notes for chapter three. To make
it up, here is another of my favorite poems, but this one is
*really* romantic:

I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet, the dear and wished for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his angique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightaway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
And a voice said in mastery while I strove--
"Guess now who holds thee?"--"Death," I said. But there
The silver answer rang: "Not Death, but Love."

Isn't that WONDERFUL!! It's from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's
Sonnets from the Portugese. Happy Valentines Day!!