Clarity

"You sure you don't want to sleepover again, Stella?" Sasha asked her, watching the older girl pull on her sneakers in the foyer.

"I would, but I have to do this paper for Mr. Foster that's due in the morning," Stella said. "Let me know what you guys are doing tomorrow though. I'll be around."

"You want a ride home? It's late," Sam had appeared behind his sister and joined in watching her tie her laces.

"It's just a few blocks away, Sam," she assured him. "Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"Ok, take care," Sasha bid her good night with a smile and a wave as Stella let herself out the door and crossed the front lawn.

The watch on her left wrist read 9:37pm. She would still have enough time to pull together her notes to whip up a nice three page paper on The Scarlet Letter. Stella navigated through other people's yards and walls of foliage, narrowly avoiding being attacked by a raccoon that was lurking inside a nearby bush. She jumped out of the shrubbery next to her house when she felt something skitter past her ankle.

Stella swore, brushing off her clothes when she realized she was dragging along a collection of spider webs on her shoulders. She spun around, intending to throw off any spiders that might have latched onto her by then as she picked some stray leaves out of her hair.

She was so preoccupied that didn't notice a shadow lurking on her porch as she stepped up to her door. Stella fiddled with her keys for a short moment when she sensed she wasn't alone. She stopped and turned her head towards the figure leaning on the white railing that edged the small area. Her eyes squinted, trying to discern the person's identity from the dark so she could either scold them or scream and bludgeon them with the bat at her foot.

A spark in the dark and a tiny flame.

"Are you stalking me now?" Stella asked, dropping her hands from the front door to approach the man.

Alex merely shrugged his shoulders as he exhaled a stream of smoke. Stella reached forward to pluck the cigarette from his fingers, half expecting him to swat her hand away. He didn't make a move as she climbed up beside him and took a long drag herself.

"You said you didn't smoke," he said.

"I say a lot of things, but you seem to know enough about me," Stella squinted at him through the dark. "Why don't I know about you?"

He shrugged again and she was getting the sense that she wasn't going to learn anything at all. Stella drew from the cigarette again and offered it back to him before sliding down from the railing.

"Come with me tonight."

"Night," she said with a shake of her head, dismissing his invitation and going back to her door to pick through her keys again.

Stella didn't hear him move from his position on the porch, so when she felt someone standing behind her, she panicked. She dropped her keys and spun around, finding Alex to be standing in such close proximity that she had to press her back to the door in order to put a small space between them.

"Guys like Ethan Carreno and Samuel Rowe won't do it for you," he said, dropping the butt of the cigarette on the ground and snubbing it out with his foot.

"Do what?"

"This," Alex reached down and took her by the wrist, lifting her hand and positioning it over her heart. Stella peered at him in confusion, but soon became aware of how fast her heart was racing despite how smoothly she presented herself.

Stella blushed and snatched her hand away, unsure how anyone should respond to that. Alex stepped away and bent down to pick her key ring off the ground. He placed it in her hand, smirked, and left without anything more to say.

Stella turned back to her door and fumbled with her keys. Then she stopped and looked over her shoulder before pressing her hand over her chest again. She tried to will her heart to slow to a steady beat, but nothing could be done.

"Jesus, Stella," she muttered to herself.

A chill breeze rustled the trees and coaxed her into finally finding the key to unlock the door. She let herself in and shrugged off her jacket. The silence of the house was deafening, so she consciously made small noises. Sliding the locks into place, dropping her keys onto the small table propped up next to the door, and tossing her boots to their usual corner where they wouldn't get in the way.

As soon as she shut the door to her bedroom behind her, she let her hair down and slowly sank down at her desk. Stella could swear she could still hear her heart beating in her ears, so she cracked open the window before bringing out all her essay writing materials. It didn't take much effort to throw herself into the assignment at hand. Under normal circumstances, it never did, but today was she was incredibly motivated.

Stella finished the paper within the hour and was left staring at the blinking cursor just after the last period. She reread it four times and made a few changes that weren't necessary. When she found she couldn't do anymore without degrading the thing entirely, she dragged the cursor over and printed it.

The sound of the printer coming to life on the other side of the room was jarred the quiet. Stella made sure to save before stowing away her laptop and leaning back in her chair. The clock face sitting on the shelving of her desk was staring at her and she stared straight back. Eventually the sound of the printer died out as the job was done and she was left in silence again.

Except for the low ticking of the clock.

"Stella, no."

She reached into her pocket and fingered the cheap matchbook.

"Don't you dare."

It was in her hand now as she leaned forward and inspected it under the lamplight.

"Nothing good will come out of this."

Stella flipped it open and scanned the number once.

She clicked her tongue and tore a match away, striking it against the coarse strip on the opposite side. The tip burst into a tiny flame and she watched it grow before bringing it to meet with the six remaining. She let the matchbook burn between her fingers, the black ink slowly being eaten with the cardboard, then she dropped it into an empty glass at the edge of her desk. Stella rose from her chair to push the window open further as she watched it burn.

The fire quickly consumed the matchbook, Alexander Hunt's number, along with hopefully all her intrigue in the man.

"Good girl."