The Heat of Christmas: A Stonewall Investigation

But it wasn’t going away. The ashy, burnt smell that stung my nose only got more intense. And then the fire alarms started going off. I knew then that this wasn’t a mac and cheese incident. This shit was serious. I jumped from the couch and ran to the door, opening it and getting hit in the face with dark and burning hot smoke. I coughed violently at the surprise blast of shit filling my lungs. People were shouting and running toward the stairwells on either side of the halls. The smoke seemed to be coming from a closed door down the hall.

Gary and Fred’s dorm.

Fuck. Were they still in there?

I walked toward the fire, instinct kicking in and overriding the intensifying fear. But before I could even make it three steps, both Gary and Fred ran out of their dorm, their faces and arms covered in black soot and ash, both of them coughing just as hard as everyone else.

I turned, ready to run for the stairs closest to me, when another thought struck me as hard as the surprise ash bomb.

Dusty.

I didn’t know the guy, barely spoke a full sentence to him, but he was my dorm neighbor and I had to make sure he was out. Plus, he had the cutest fucking cat on the planet, who would come out of his dorm for some hallway head scratches before Dusty would realize and bring her back in. I was scared she might still be inside the dorm.

I slammed my fist on the closed door. The hallway was already empty. I could hear the loud fire truck sirens getting even louder, meaning help was already here.

“Dusty?” I shouted, looking down the hall and seeing fire licking up the side of the closed door. It grew hotter, and my coughs were pushing all the breath from my lungs. My eyes stung, and rubbing them did nothing but make the pain worse.

No one answered another slam of my fist on the door.

Good, no one’s—

My heart stopped. Underneath all the smoky chaos, a tiny sound came through the door, one that made my blood freeze cold.

A meow. Olive was still in there.

Fuck.

Something loud exploded inside the burning dorm room, making me jump. A loud crack told me the ceiling must have given way. There wasn’t much time left.

I looked once more toward the stairs, hoping I’d see a firefighter running up, but there was no one, and Olive was meowing louder now. She must know someone was on the other side of the door.

Fuck, fuck.

I didn’t have time to think, only act. Coughing, I gave myself some space from Dusty’s door and then took it at a run, using my shoulder as a battering ram.

It worked. The door went back on its hinges, the lock flying off with the impact. It took me seconds to spot Olive, who had run back toward the cat tree to avoid the door. I went straight for her as the dorm quickly filled up with billowing smoke.

She didn’t run, thank God. If I weren’t so panicked, I would have said she even stood up on her hind legs to ask to be carried as I got near her.

I grabbed her in my arms and ran, running harder than ever before, the heat slamming into my back as if it were going to grab me and pull me back in.

I went down the stairs, taking them three at a time. My lungs felt like they were on fire themselves. I coughed and sputtered, but I made sure to hold Olive tight against my chest. Thankfully she wasn’t struggling at all, her claws only gently digging into my forearm.

Firefighters ran past me, a hose in their hands. I made sure to stay out of their way, running around and past them, through a pair of double doors and finally out into the fresh air. I took a big gulp of it, my eyes running over with tears from how badly they burned.

Through the tears, I saw a figure running toward me. He wasn’t wearing the red of a firefighter or the black of a police officer. He looked like a student, he looked like—it was Dusty.

“I think this little purr monster is yours?” I asked through the coughs.

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