TORCH by Yvonne Collins, Sandy Rideout Page B

confide in Regan, but this is different, and at the moment I have more questions than answers. Besides, unlike me, Regan is close to her dad. If she gets worried enough about me, she’ll spill to Uncle Rick and he’ll spill to my dad. That could cause the flow of answers to dry up fast. Worse, I might find myself packing my things to move somewhere else. Not that I love Rosewood, but this is where my problems started, and it’s probably where I need to be to figure them out. Besides, the only person who seems willing to give me any information at all is Kai Seaver.
    “Maybe you should go back to the doctor,” Regan say. “I’ll go with you.”
    I shake my head. “Bad dreams are normal for... for someone in my situation. At least, that’s what the counselor at my old school said.”
    “But you don’t seem like yourself lately,” she says.
    I’m not myself and obviously I’m doing a poor job of hiding it. “I just need to have a little fun,” I say. “And luckily I have you and Operation Destiny to help.”
    Rooting around in her purse as an excuse not to look at me, Regan asks, “Have you heard from Flynn lately?”
    “He called. And offered to visit. I said no.”
    She stops rooting to give me a disappointed look. “Why? You said you need to have fun.”
    I laugh. “Flynn’s more fun for you than me. I don’t want a big brother replacement. Regan, he’s too old for you.”
    “I know. But we’re talking about fun.”
    "Speaking of fun," a voice behind us says, "you two are seriously ruining mine."
    Bianca seems to share Regan’s goal of trying out for every club the school offers. She leans against the wall on the opposite side of the hall, and her followers arrange themselves around her. Last year’s yearbook is under her arm. I flipped through Regan’s copy and found Bianca featured on every other page. I guess she’s going for full saturation.
    “Glad to be of service," I say.
    "I'm sure you are," Bianca says. "I hear you're very helpful when it comes to reporting fires."
    Good news travels fast when your dad’s the chief of police. But I don’t plan to confirm or deny.
    Regan is staring at me, confused, and Bianca notices. “What, you didn’t tell Chunky? What kind of friend are you?”
    I stare at Bianca. “Your life must suck when all you want to do is make everyone around you miserable.”
    “Untrue,” she says. “I want to help you. In fact, here's a tip:  you might want to prepare yourself for a visit from a cop."
    My stomach lurches. “A cop? Why?”
    “Apparently you told the operator someone set the fire deliberately. So you must have information that can help track down an arsonist.” She points a pen at me. “Did you know there have been five unexplained fires since June?”
    “Most fires never get explained,” Regan says, proving how good a friend she is by defending me even when she knows I’ve withheld information.
    “But this one can be explained,” Bianca says. “Nix called to report a church fire that was deliberately set, right around the time someone saw her dad leaving his work.” She smiles as my face drops.” What can I say? The walls in my Dad's office are pretty thin."
    “My dad isn’t setting fires,” I snap. “And if you keep saying stuff like that, I’m going to talk to the principal.”
    “Go ahead,” she says. “Bob McCabe and my dad are pals.”
    “Then he’ll back my bid for an ‘Eastfield Bully of the Year’ award. You’ll get a full page spread in the yearbook.”
    Bianca shoves herself off the wall and takes a couple of steps toward me. I hope I’m the only one who notices that the corner of her yearbook is smoking.
    Leaning into my face, she says, "You need to learn when to shut your mouth." She jabs me with a finger and jump backs. “Ouch... Jeez. You shocked me.”
    “You know what?” Regan says, tugging on my sleeve. “I can already tell yearbook committee isn’t my thing. Let’s go.”
    I follow her down the hall