Page 7 of Branded

“Come on, guys, work with me here.The Great Gatsbyis one of the most interesting pieces of literature you’ll ever study. I know at least one of you read it.”

A young man in the back raises his hand and I point to him for an answer.

“I think that it could represent something that Gatsby wants. It’s something he looks for every day… kind of like a goal.”

I smile wide. “That’s a great answer, Alex.” I turn and write on the board. “The green light represents Daisy and the things Gatsby wants for his future. So close, yet still out of reach.”

Growing up, the only thing I ever wanted in life was to be a teacher. I love guiding young people in the most important times of their lives and doing what I can to make sure they get the most out of life. That’s not to say it’s an easy job, because it isn’t. It’s the hardest job I’ve ever had, but it’s beyond rewarding.

I turn back to face my second period class.

“I’m going to be asking you to read—”

The sound of the fire alarm zings through the room. It’s loud, unyielding, and you can feel it deep in your ears.

“Ms. Westbrook, is this a drill?” Danielle, one of my students, asks as everyone bolts up to their feet.

I check my watch. “It is. This was slated to happen sometime this morning.” I go over to my desk and grab my bag from the bottom drawer. “We’ll be coming back here afterward. Just leave all of your things, and follow me down the hall and out to our designated area.”

It’s harder than you’d think to carefully guide hundreds of teenagers in an orderly fashion out the door, but somehow we manage to make it all the way out onto the football field without too much fuss.

Once I make sure all of my students are accounted for, I look around for Olivia and her class so I can pop over to their line to say hello.

“Think this will last long?” I ask, when I bump her with my elbow.

“Who knows? The fire department sent a couple trucks over to go in and make sure all of our fire safety things are in working order, but I wouldn’t think that would take too long.”

“Well, that’s good at least. It’ll make me feel better knowing those things work.”

Ever since the fires five years ago, I’ve become, I wouldn’t say paranoid, but hyperaware of fire safety and how things should and shouldn’t be.

Not that those things would have made a difference that night. My house was going no matter what we did or the precautions we took. My brother however…

“Hello. Earth to Sawyer.” Olivia waves her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of the potential very dark tunnel I was about to spiral down.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just not a fan of this stuff or thinking about it, ya know?”

“I know.” She leans her head on my shoulder for just a moment.

I kept my experience with the Los Angeles wildfires private when I moved to Sunset Valley, simply because it’s not something I want to discuss ad nauseam. I had completely left that Sawyer behind. I grew my hair out, completely changed the color, had Lasik surgery. I became a new me… literally.

It wasn’t until Liv and I decided to order sushi and get wine drunk a few months ago that the entire story spilled out in a rush of curse words and tears.

I head back down to my side of the field to check in on my class when Principal Andrews comes over the PA system to let us know we can come back into the building, and to be kind and respectful as the gentleman from the Sunset Valley Fire Department are still in the halls and at the doors.

Getting everyone inside seems to be a bit more chaotic than getting everyone out, so by the time we have stepped into the cool, air-conditioned lobby of the school, I’ve ended up at the back my line of students.

Off to the side, near the lobby, there is a small huddle of two or three men dressed in blue slacks with blue shirts tucked in. The back bears a symbol of two crossing axes with the fire station’s numbers at the top.

I wish I could say I was staring for no reason, but the truth is, I’m looking for him.

Isaac Black.

Ever since I covered him with hot chocolate three days ago, he’s been present in my mind. Maybe he’s not in my every thought, but he’s made a home deep in my subconscious.

Get back to work, Westbrook.

I turn on my heel to head back down the hall to my classroom, but I’m halted by someone directly in my path.

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