Share Girl’s Story Part 2

The warmth came slowly.

Not unpleasant.

Comfortable.

Like slipping beneath a heavy blanket on a rainy afternoon.

She smiled.

"I feel..."

She giggled.

"...floaty."

Mark laughed.

"Told you."

The world softened around the edges.

Voices blurred together.

She couldn't quite tell who was talking anymore.

Someone said her name.

Someone laughed.

Hands helped her sit down.

She couldn't remember whose.

Everything felt...

warm.

Safe.

Loved.

Mark brushed her hair away from her face.

"There she is."

Amber looked up at him.

His face shimmered against the stars.

She smiled.

"...You're so handsome."

He smiled back.

"So are you."

Warm fingers brushed her cheek.

Her heart melted.

This...

This was love.

She'd been right all along.

Her mother had been wrong.

Everyone had been wrong.

This...

This feeling...

This warmth spreading through her chest...

This was what she'd always wanted.

She sighed happily.

"I never want this to end."

"It won't."

Someone laughed.

Far away.

Another voice.

"I think she's almost out."

"Finally."

Amber frowned.

Out?

What did that mean?

She tried to open her eyes wider.

Everything doubled.

Tripled.

The stars slowly spun overhead.

Mark's face drifted in and out of focus.

Still smiling.

Still beautiful.

Still...

There.

He loved her.

He had to.

Didn't he?

He was still here.

His hands were still on her.

This...

This was love.

A warmth spread through her body unlike anything she'd ever known.

Not excitement.

Not butterflies.

Just...

Peace.

She smiled.

Then...

everything went black.

The silence lasted longer than any of them expected.

One of the boys nudged Amber's shoulder with his foot.

Nothing.

"...Is she finally out?"

Mark knelt beside her.

Two fingers rested lightly against her neck.

He waited.

Another few seconds.

Then he stood.

"I think so."

A long sigh escaped one of the others.

"My God."

"I thought she'd never pass out."

Another checked his watch.

"I've got work at eight."

"Let's just get this over with."

No one objected.

No one hesitated.

It was simply...

the next step.

Mark reached down first.

The silver bracelet slid from Amber's wrist.

He tossed it toward the open tailgate.

"That's mine."

Another boy crouched beside her.

"The ring."

He twisted it gently from her finger.

"I can probably still return it."

Someone laughed.

"You kept the receipt?"

"My mom makes me keep receipts."

He shrugged.

"Might as well get something back."

The ring disappeared into the growing pile.

Another boy knelt.

"I bought the necklace."

The clasp clicked open.

Gone.

"The earrings."

"They're fake."

"I know."

"I still paid for them."

Into the pile.

One sighed.

"This dress was expensive."

He carefully unzipped it.

"Help me."

Two of them worked together.

Not hurried.

Not excited.

Just...

finishing.

Like taking decorations down after a party.

The dress folded neatly.

Placed beside the jewelry.

Someone frowned.

"What about the shoes?"

Mark pointed.

"There."

"They're still nice."

"Good."

Off they came.

Into the truck.

One of the boys looked over the pile.

"Think we got everything?"

Mark scanned Amber's motionless body.

"...Almost."

He reached for her wrist.

Then stopped.

"...What the hell?"

Everyone looked.

A thin line of orange glowed beneath Amber's skin.

One of the boys laughed nervously.

"What is that?"

The glow spread.

Slowly.

Like embers beneath ash.

Tiny veins of living fire crept across her wrist.

Curling.

Twisting.

Forming letters.

M.

A.

R.

K.

"...Mark?"

Someone whispered.

"When the hell did she get that tattoo?"

Mark grabbed her arm.

Turning it over.

"I've never seen it."

The glow brightened.

The letters blackened.

Then cracked apart.

The fire didn't disappear.

It climbed.

Slowly.

Up her forearm.

Like roots searching for sunlight.

One of the boys took a step backward.

"...Dude..."

"What?"

"...It's moving."

Nobody spoke.

The flames continued crawling upward.

Thin orange branches splitting beneath her skin.

Beautiful.

Impossible.

Wrong.

Another boy finally broke the silence.

"...Think that'll identify her?"

Mark didn't answer.

His eyes stayed on the burning lines.

One shrugged.

"...Cut her wrist off?"

Silence.

"You got a knife?"

Another patted his pockets.

"...Shit."

"No."

They stood there.

Watching.

Unable to stop something they couldn't understand.

Mark finally let go.

The fire continued anyway.

It didn't need him anymore.

"...Forget it."

He stood.

"Let's go."

One of the boys looked back.

"...You sure?"

Mark nodded.

"What are we gonna tell people?"

"The truth."

Everyone looked at him.

"...She ran away."

No one questioned it.

They'd used it before.

One shrugged.

"Works for me."

Another climbed into his truck.

"I'm starving."

Someone laughed.

"I want pancakes."

The engines started.

One by one.

Headlights swept across the ditch.

Across Amber.

Across the growing fire beneath her skin.

Then...

they were gone.

Silence.

Real silence.

No engines.

No voices.

Only wind through the tall grass.

Amber lay exactly where they'd left her.

The warmth hadn't gone away.

It lingered.

Deep inside her.

This...

was love.

Wasn't it?

Mark had held her.

Smiled at her.

Promised forever.

She felt...

safe.

The thought drifted lazily through the darkness of her mind.

Then another.

Mom was wrong.

Another.

He really loved me.

Another.

I finally mattered.

The warmth spread one last time.

Then...

even those thoughts disappeared.

Someone cleared his throat.

"I suppose introductions are in order."

He hadn't arrived.

He was simply...

there.

Sitting on the edge of the ditch.

A hickory walking stick rested across his knees.

He regarded the still body with quiet curiosity.

As if he'd been expected.

As if he'd always intended to stop by.

He looked toward the darkness beside Amber.

Not at the body.

At someone standing beside it.

Someone no one else could see.

He smiled pleasantly.

"Hello."

A young woman blinked at him.

She looked down.

Amber's body lay at her feet.

She frowned.

Confused.

Then looked back up.

"...Who are you?"

The man tipped his head politely.

"I'm Simon."

A pause.

"And who are you?"

She looked at herself.

Then at the body.

"...I'm Amber."

Simon glanced toward the girl in the ditch.

"No."

His voice was calm.

Almost gentle.

"That's Amber."

She followed his gaze.

For the first time...

she really looked.

The discarded body.

The empty expression.

The girl who had spent her whole life trying to become whatever someone else wanted.

She stared.

Unable to answer.

Simon waited patiently.

Then asked again.

"So..."

"...who are you?"

Her mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

She tried again.

"...Share..."

She swallowed.

"...Share Girl?"

Simon smiled.

Not approvingly.

Simply because she'd stopped asking the wrong question.

"The truth is never a question."

She straightened almost instinctively.

For the first time in her life...

she answered without looking for someone else's approval.

"I'm Share Girl."

As she spoke, the orange light beneath Amber’s skin faded.

Share Girl looked down.

Flame moved beneath her own wrist.

Alive.

Hers.

Simon inclined his head.

"Very nice to meet you, Share Girl."

He rose slowly.

Both of them looked down at Amber together.

Simon spoke as though commenting on the weather.

"Don't worry."

"...She doesn't need you anymore."

A long silence.

Share Girl stared at the girl in the ditch.

At the empty shell that had spent years chasing a fantasy.

Then, softly...

almost gratefully...

she whispered,

"Thanks for sharing."