Page 4 of Things You Save in a Fire

There was Big Tom, hand clamped over his mouth and nose, hunching down into a guffaw that he couldn’t contain any longer.

I’d seen him do that a hundred times. He was the one who always broke.

“Oh my God,” I said, turning away.

I scanned the rest of the table. The guys from our shift were all there to cheer for me on my big night. They’d been perfect gentlemen all night long, chewing with their mouths closed and everything. But once Big Tom broke, they all broke. In one scan, I saw it on every single face: glee. Triumphant, practical-joke-infused glee.

They’d gotten me.

I turned back to Hernandez and punched him on the shoulder. Hard. “Seriously?”

They’d never gotten me before. And not for lack of trying.

What can I say? Nobody’s perfect.

Once the guys’ restraint collapsed, it collapsed hard. They all started pointing. And raising their arms in victory. And cackling so hard they made the table shake. Reichman, Nolan, Trey, Big Tom, and especially Hernandez—now hooting with delight, leaning back for air, turning red.

I let them have a minute. They’d earned it.

Then I started laughing, too—at the relief of it—as the world shifted back into a recognizable pattern and became familiar again. I took a deep breath of comprehension: Hernandez had not propositioned me. He hadprankedme.

Only a prank. Thank God.

When Hernandez finally settled enough to talk, he pointed at me. “You totally bought it.”

I punched him in the shoulder. “You freaked me out, dude! Tonight, of all nights.”

“We thought you could use a distraction,” Hernandez said. Then he pointed at Big Tom. “You torpedoed me, man! She was about to say yes.”

“I was not,” I said.

“You were,” Hernandez said. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s getting girls to say yes—”

“I’m not a girl. I’m a firefighter.”

“—and you wereone secondaway.”

I threw a dinner roll at him. “You wish.”

But he’d made some good points, I’d give him that. Maybe a few too many.

Hernandez dug into his pocket for his wallet. “Man! I just lost twenty bucks.”

The other guys pulled theirs out, too. “Never bet against Hanwell,” Big Tom said, giving me a wink.

The money came out and got shuffled around the table as the guys paid up, counting bills and collecting them.

I watched Hernandez pay out and punched his shoulder again—harder this time. “You bet against me?”

He shrugged with a sly smile. “I know what I know. I’m irresistible.”

Up onstage, the program was starting.

An emcee fired up the mic as the waitstaff cleared away the plates and people rerouted their attention to the stage. “It’s my great pleasure,” the emcee said, “to help honor our city’s fire and rescue heroes here tonight.”

A huge cheer roared up from the room. Then the guys at my table started chanting, “Cassie! Cassie! Cassie!”

I shushed them and made a “cut” gesture at my neck.

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