St. Dominic’s School



The playground of their old grammar school hadn’t changed much in the years since she and Seth had been students there, Cara thought, as she twirled around on one of the swings, first one way, then the other, taking in the full thee-sixty view.   Seth had offered to drive her home, but she hadn’t felt like going there yet, and he hadn’t wanted to go anywhere more interesting, so they’d come here instead.

"Some night, huh?" Seth observed, as he sat slumped on the next swing over, slowly rocking in place.

"Oh, yeah.   It’s been a real pisser."  She was just happy it was finally over.  The actual fire had been bad enough, but the aftermath—all those uniforms stalking around the parking lot, asking questions, shooting glances?  Shit, she’d just been waiting for the cuffs.

Seth went quiet again.   After a moment he mumbled, "I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk."

Cara stared at him in puzzled silence.  What was he talking about?   He’d been a god, tonight.  A hero.

He sighed.  "You know––when you first asked me for help?   And what I said in the basement?  I shouldn’t have said all that stuff."

"Oh, that."  Cara shrugged.  "S’okay.   I’m kinda used to it."  She was used to being yelled at, used to being cursed and called names, used to being hit.   Not that Seth had ever hit her.   And, anyway, even that was better than being ignored, which, now that she thought about it, was something Seth had done, a whole lot of times.

Seth winced. "Cara, that’s not an excuse."

"Okay, fine. Just don’t do it again, all right?"

©PG Forte 2005
Visions before Midnight

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