The Fiery Boys (A Sample)

"The engine's rumble, the speed.

The drive to break out, the need.

The push to prove it, your creed."

River drummed the table with me. When we finished, Chuck smiled. "You can almost sing good."

I nearly laughed at the way he could make a compliment sound like an insult. Sure, I could carry a tune, but I was no Chuck. I ignored his dig and sang the song's chorus. Chuck joined in.

"Living by a precipice,

Dancing on the blade of a knife,

Liberty means so much more,

The promise, the promise of a fiery life."

We whooped together and gave each other a smile. "Anyway, that was Zed and me in high school." I sighed. "He liked fast cars and motorcycles. We rode them, souped them up, and even raced them. My dad had taught me a few basic car concepts like how to change the oil, but Zed taught me to get in there and really work the engines. I'm telling you, we lived a fiery life. We were totally in love."

Chuck nodded. "Did you get married?"

River rolled his eyes and swatted Chuck on the shoulder. "Moron. It's a sad song." He looked at me. "I'm guessing something happened to him. Did he die?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Two months before we graduated. Motorcycle accident on a windy road-just like in the song. Not only that, but when they found his music player, he'd been listening to 'Fiery Life' on endless repeat." I sang the second verse.

"The winding road draws your prowls,

It grabs for your heart, and growls,

With blood on its bed, it howls."

I pushed away the pain that always hit me when I heard those words. Not only did I lose Zed back then, so close to graduation, but my parents had already moved away. Zed's death left me even more alone.

I pulled myself together and dove into the second chorus. Each chorus was the same except for the last line, which followed the mood of the verse. So rather than repeat all of it, I sang only the last line.

"The sorrow of a fiery life."

River took my hand. "I'm sorry to hear that, Annalisa." I gasped silently-his comfort was so warm and perfect. Chuck may have written a beautifully poetic song, but River understood it. He understood me.

I smiled and looked at him. "It's all right. That song gave me the strength to put my life back together and move on."

The third verse was exactly what I'd needed to recover. Chuck sang it for me.

"Honor the fallen with depth,

Live and remember each death,