Ignite

Chapter 1

My name is Claudia Cairns, and I've been living in Sydney's eastern suburbs for fifty-four days. I have a calendar that tells me so. Jake doesn't like my calendar much. He says because I count towards the future, I hold on to the past, but I know he counts too.

Jake counts everything. He was counting sixteen years ago when he screamed his way out of Mum, then watched me follow thirty minutes later. Those thirty minutes were Jake's claim to fame and gave him a healthy appreciation of what time can do for someone when treated respectfully.

We used to live in a stop-over town. During summer, cars clogged the main road, rushing east and then heading back two months later coated in sand and salt. Jake and I would watch from our eucalypt-shaded oval, kicking the soccer ball back and forth, dust puffing in our faces.

Sometimes we'd stand beside the highway with the other kids and run between the cars. The closest cut earned the highest respect, and Jake was frequently respected, and I, scared shitless.

When Mum found out, she threw an empty bottle at him.

"You know one day you'll get hit, not honked," she yelled.

"No, one day I'll ask for a lift out of here."

Jake's statement had provoked another bottle into flight and he'd scuttled out the door, calling for me to follow.

That's the way it had always been. Jake would get into trouble and bolt as I apologised and backed out after. Sometimes, I'd throw in a 'what can you do?' shrug to solidify my good-twin role. Not that anyone ever bought it. Everyone knew Jake and I were a team. We were the troublemakers of our town, the mischief that could not be managed. Infamous.

But then there was one cigarette. One gust of wind. One spark. And our lives changed forever.

"Claudia!"

My face is close enough to the window that when Aunt Sylvia shouts my name, I jerk forward and head-butt the glass.

"Shit!" I curse, grabbing my nose as pain explodes through my sinuses. "Oh my god. My nose! I've broken my nose."

I stumble around to find a blurry Sylvia silhouetted in the doorway.

"Claudia," she repeats. "Don't use that language in my house. Why aren't you changed yet? If you don't hurry, you won't have time for breakfast."

"Argh." I curl over and try to blink back the tears. "You've broken my nose, woman. How am I supposed to get changed?"

Sylvia huffs and moves over to me, grabbing my cheeks and lifting my face towards hers. She squints at me and then lets go.

"You're exaggerating. It's fine. Get dressed and come downstairs. There's scrambled eggs on the table."

I blink after her as she leaves, and once she's gone, I blink at my new uniform instead, hanging up on my door.