SHORT FICTION BY NITYA BUDAMAGUNTA

A sputter of sapphire blue. A shift to warm orange. Breathing: Oxygen in, Carbon out.

With each breath, I grow: Warmer. Taller. Stronger.

I expand my flame and see for the first time—emitting light from the blue center of my core, my orange body, and my dancing yellow hair—the bright shades of yellow swirl together in a kaleidoscopic blur before focusing into orange and red shapes. Everything around me is cooler: the candlewick beneath me, the air around me, except for two forces nearby radiating heat.

My flickering reflection catches on a line of picture frames. There are two humans in each of them, one with dark hair and the other with lighter coils. With each picture, they looked slightly different: their faces thinned, they were taller in some, and they had red dots across their foreheads and noses in others. The last picture was different. It had four people, the light-haired human not in sight and the dark-haired one had hair cropped close to the face.

           “I think you’re only supposed to light candles for birthdays,” a voice jolts me. I hop around on my wick to face the speaker. He was the dark-haired person from the picture. I breathe in deeper, growing bigger so I could reach his face. His lips were stretched to his eyes and tugged up at the edges, exposing his white teeth.

           “Who says?” a higher-pitched voice says. It was the light-haired girl. “Candles are for celebrations of all kinds.”

I brighten at the sound of the word “celebration”. I don’t know what a celebration is, but instinct tells me it’s important. I flicker brighter, urging them to go on.

           “You could just say you missed me,” the boy says.

           “Miss you?” the girl says, “Never.”

            “Right, what are we sappy high schoolers?” The boy says. He taps the girl lightly on the shoulder.

They laugh, and then there’s silence. There is an energy between them, a beautiful warmth that connects them with a fragile string.

           “It’s good to see you, Kara,” The boy says.

The girl, Kara, smiles. “I wish I could have been here earlier Arlen,” she says. “I’ve been really busy, and my job didn’t let me take off, and—”

            “It’s okay,” Arlen says. “You’re here now. How’s L.A.?”

I try to sound out L.A.—instead, my flame sounds a pop. I wonder what L.A. is. An Object? A place? Another candle flame that rose in popularity?

            “It’s cool, you know traffic and all,” Kara shrugs.

It seems like L.A. is a place, though not interesting enough to go there.

           “I like my job,” Kara says, “but I really miss it here.”

Kara should move here with Arlen, I think. It seems like she isn’t too keen on this place called L.A.

            “Anyways, enough about me,” Kara says, “what about you? It’s been a while since we talked.”

            “It has been a while,” Arlen says. “I’m still figuring things out with my family. They still haven’t come around, but I’ve been okay.”

            “You got this,” Kara says. “You’re going to be okay!”

            “I know,” Arlen says. “I’ve found people who I don’t have to hide from, so it’s been nice.”

            “Yes,” Kara says. “I keep seeing them pop up on your Instagram. Do I get to meet them this week?”

            “We’ll see,” Arlen says. “Everyone’s busy, and I wouldn’t want to bother.”

            “Are you,” Kara nudges Arlen with her elbow, “seeing any of them.”

            “No, Kara,” Arlen says. “I told you, it’s not like that.

     Kara smirks, and I wonder if the people in the last picture, the one without Kara, are Arlen's friends. How come Kara doesn’t know them?

           “You know you can reach out to me whenever right?” Kara says. “I know I haven’t been answering my phone as consistently, but I’m still here for you.”

           “I know,” Arlen says. “I guess we’ve both been busy.”

Maybe I’ll have such a good friend someday. Kara seems to really care about Arlen, even though she’s busy. And Arlen loves her even though she can’t talk to him all the time. I would love to have a friend like that in my life, maybe another flame?

           “I love the new hair,” Kara says. “It makes you look like a real guy. And you changed your whole style too.”

Arlen nods, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, both of their faces contain smiles pasted on them and my reflection catches on their strain.

I leap and shine brighter. They are so happy that they’re getting tired from smiling.

They gaze at each other, occasionally nodding, but in silence. The warmth I felt between them was cooler, not by much, but enough for me to notice.

           “You really didn’t have to come all the way here,” Arlen says. “I know you’re busy and—”

           “Of course I did,” Kara says, “I couldn’t miss my best friend's birthday without visiting later. Besides, I missed you.”

           “I missed you too,” Arlen mumbled, turning away. On his cheek was something glassy, something fluid, something—

Fear engulfs me. I recoil into myself, forgetting to breathe. I shrink away from the droplet—the monster. The flame eater. The air around me suddenly cools.

           “Oh no,” Kara says as she cups me in her palms. In the enclosed space, I feel safe to breathe again and pull myself taller. “All right, Arlen. Better make a wish before the flame goes out!”

A wish! That’s what it was! The true purpose of a candle flame!

I anticipate as Arlen leans closer, his mouth rounded. I wish

I leap in my spot.

I wish she hadn’t—