Fire Fighter

Emilio leaned against his locker after school one day, contemplating the rest of his life. It was pretty heavy for an 11th-grader, but he knew the reality. He was no ordinary 17 year old. At the age of 3, his mother had lost it and set fire to his house in attempts to kill both him and his father. Some sort of delayed postpartum depression.

Luckily, she failed and was admitted to Glendale’s Mental Institute indefinitely. Emilio visited on Mother’s Day weekends. That is, if she’d earned visitation rights. He’d only recently forgiven her for those scars; could still taste the ash on his lips.

His dad, on the other hand, went to prison for possession and intent to distribute when Emilio was 15. Now he lived with his aunt in the next town over. Family was an F-word.

“How bout it, Em? Wanna catch the new Captain America movie tonight?” Danny asked, slamming his locker.

“Sure, I guess — what time?”

“My shift ends at 9. So like 10?”

“Man, my mom won’t go for that,” whined Aaron. “My curfew is midnight.”

Emilio looked at his feet.

Danny cut in; “Well it’s cool — I can only take 1 other person in my car anyway. My new license comes next month!”

“Oh, come on! Don’t be like that. Let’s just go tomorrow night.”

Danny looked over. “Emilio? Tomorrow?”

“Nah, count me out then. Gotta take care of something.”

Danny immediately turned back to Aaron. “Oh, yeah, I can’t tomorrow either,” he said. “I forgot I have work til 10.”

Emilio glanced back up at Danny, eyes ready to burst, grateful for his friend’s ability to deflect the heat.

“Fiiiinnnneeee,” huffed Aaron, completely oblivious. “I’ll just go see it with my little brother.” He stormed off down the hallway, muttering something about Planet Aaron.

“Sorry bout that,” said Danny. “I forgot what tomorrow was.”

“It’s all good.”

“You okay, man?”

“I’ll live.” He slung his bag over his shoulder. “Still good for tonight?”

“Yezzir, as long as you don’t mind me smelling like tacos.”

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