Before Everything

Chapter Four: The Fly and Fire

Maggie's POV

After what happened yesterday, when Lincoln carried me, I let myself vanish in the darkness.

Today, Nash told me that Lincoln brought me home.

"Maggie! Thank God you're alive!" she said.

"You're funny Nash." I chuckled.

"Funny? I ain't joking! After what Lincoln did, you just, laugh? Be serious."

Then, I think of it. Aw. He did that to me? Geez. I feel like I'm someone special for him. Am I?

"Now we need to go to school and thank him. Hurry up. We need to be early. Fix yourself now!" she commanded.

I quickly took a shower, fix my dress, eat then went to school with Nash.

⚫ ⚫ ⚫

"Why on earth did you do that?" Nash chuckled.

"It's not my fault his hands were rough and dry that I would be comfortable with it."

I told Nash about me and Lincoln's first talk.

"Nope. You just can't stop yourself from touching him cause he's too attractive. It's like a fly captures attention on fire. It is because the fly is desiring the fire. And tada! The fly died. The end." she said.

"You're exaggerating." I whined.

"I ain't. Just setting an example. And oh. Look who's coming, the wild fire. Now thank him!"

I look at what she's looking and see Lincoln.

Lincoln. Lincoln Zimmerman.

I looked away. I can't stare at him. If there would be a staring contest between me and him, for sure I'll lose.

"Hey, Maggie!"

That husky voice.

"Yep? I-is there som-something wrong?" I faced him.

"Nothing. You okay?" he smiled.

Oh gosh, I'm melting.

Wait. Do flies melt?

"I am fine, wild fire." I said.

"What?" he smirked.

"Nevermind."

"Me? Wild fire?" he furrowed his eyes.

"I didn't say that!" I denied.

"Whatever. See you later?"

"Bye."

I quickly trail Nash away. Nash followed and poke my head.

"You're flirting? Huh?" she joked.

I just ignored her and went inside the classroom.

I took a seat and Nash sat beside me. Nash oh Nash. She'll talk about what happened.

"Conclusion: A fly can flirt. And a wild fire can walk. And oh, a fly can hold my hand and run! But! Why can't a fly say thank you?" she started.

"I am not flirting!" I chirped. I was too focused on her first conclusion.

"Magenta is flirting!" she shouted with mockery in her voice.

In all debates we had, I always throw my hands up.

"Quiet Nash! Someone will hear you."

But she didn't. She continued talking about the fly and the fire.