The Dare

Chapter 17

I’m about to get into bed, having stayed up until just after one in the morning in the living room, half watching a new series on Netflix and half listening for George outside. I’ve mostly been watching the front door on the home security app.

Nothing.

As I close my bedroom door, I hear sirens. Opening my blinds, I peer out to see what’s going on and gasp. In the distance I can see smoke billowing out of…no, that can’t be right.

I open the window and lean out, and I’m just about able to see Arthur’s house.

On fire.

My hands shake as I dial George’s number.

It goes to voicemail. Twice.

Oh god, he’s probably inside.

Without a second thought, I throw on my hoodie and run. My keys are by the front door. I snatch them from the side table and run to my car, my heart beating loudly in my ears.

Earlier, Jesse was talking about “taking care” of George, and now this happens.

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t do this. Arthur was one thing, that was an accident, but to plan and execute a murder…No, this has to be an accident.

We had a plan.

I start the car and shove it into drive.

I fly down the road, taking the twists and turns slowly and speeding whenever there is a stretch of straight road. The more direct route to Arthur’s is via the road where we ran him over, and I’ve been avoiding taking it.

It only takes me an extra two minutes to arrive outside their property, though. Two fire engines and a couple of cop cars are on the scene. I park out of the way, passing an ambulance that stops on the road.

I get out and run toward the firefighters. “Where’s George?” I shout.

One of them turns, a tall man with a thick mustache. He steps toward me, holding his arm out as if he thinks I’m about to run into that burning house.

“Where’s George?” I repeat.

“Stay back, we’re searching for him now. Do you have his phone number?”

“Yeah. I’ve tried calling it, but he’s not picking up. He’s in there! You have to get him out.”

“We’ll find him,” he says. “Please step back.”

I back up and look at the house, the heat reaching us from all the way on the road. Red-hot flames crack windows, burning out the rotting wooden frames. Smoke pours from the house like a faucet.

I tilt my head and watch the smoke steal the stars, stretching out across the sky.

If George is in there…

What chance does he have?

I try his phone again but get his voicemail.

“George, please,” I whisper, tightly gripping my phone.

He was out earlier, but I don’t think he really does anything around town. I’ve even tried inviting him out, but he just stays there with Arthur. Used to stay with Arthur. Now he’s just alone.

“Marley?”

I spin. “Rhett. What are you doing here?”

He shuts his car door and walks over. “I just heard. Is George out?”

I shrug. “I don’t think so. He’s not picking up his phone. They’re searching for him, but look, the house is almost gutted. How did you hear?”

Why would he come? He’s not friends with George.

“Sirens,” he says.

“You heard them from your house?”

“I never said I was at my house.”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. It’s almost one-thirty a.m.

“Why are you here?” he asks.

“Saw from my window,” I mutter.

“Where are your parents?”

“Work.”

Ruthie’s is closer to Arthur’s, but I still doubt he’d see it from there, not with the forest in the way.

Shouting distracts me from trying to figure Rhett out. A firefighter runs from the house with George in his arms, limp like he’s already dead. The image is almost identical to the boys carrying Arthur.

Rhett’s eyes widen and he looks over at me.

“Do you think he’s…?” I can’t bring myself to finish that sentence. I don’t want to think about George dying.

“Marley, you’ve gone pale.”

My heart thumps so hard that my head feels like it’s floating. George is whisked off into the back of an ambulance. An oxygen mask is attached to his face before the doors close and the vehicle speeds toward the hospital.

Will Mom and Dad see him when he comes in? Mom probably but Dad only if George needs an X-ray.

“He’s alive,” I say, my shoulders sagging in relief. I can hear a couple of the firefighters talking, the ones who’re working the hose, ensuring water is being continuously pumped through it.

“It’s a bad one, man. I don’t think there’ll be much left,” one of the firefighters says.

The house. It doesn’t matter about the house. It was falling down anyway.

“The owner’s missing. Strange, don’t you think?” the other firefighter adds.

“Jimmy doesn’t think it was an accident,” the first replies. “Smelled gas when he was first on the scene.”

“I’m leaving,” I say. My world is shrinking, and I don’t know what to do or who to trust.

Was this Jesse’s way of ensuring George can never speak out? He can’t…Arthur was an accident, this wasn’t.

Now that I know George is safe, I need to find out if it was Jesse who did this.

“Whoa, I don’t think you should drive. Seriously, Marley, you look like you’re going to hit the floor,” Rhett says.

“No, I’m okay. It’s just a shock.”

I can’t let Rhett know that I’m freaking out. We still don’t know if the message was from him…. And why was he out here in the middle of the night?

“Marley?” he calls as I walk away from him. “Damn it, will you just let me help you?”

“You’ve done enough,” I reply. When I’m safely in my car, I begin to sob.

Thursday, June1

I head to the hospital early in the morning because I need to be near George. He deserves someone to care for him. Yeah, my parents still have a couple of hours left of their shift, so it’s risky, but I’m confident that I can get in and out without them noticing.

It wouldn’t even be that weird if they did see me—they know I’m friendly with George—but I’m paranoid as hell and don’t want it to seem like I’m here out of guilt.

I park between two cars despite there being an empty corner. If my car is surrounded, they’ll never see it. Not that they get much time to glance out the windows anyway.

Inside, I head to the desk, and smile when I notice that Maude is working today so it should be easier to get past.

She smiles as she spots me. “Marley, hello.”

“Hey.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I’ve just come to see George. I know I’m not family or anything, but his parents have both passed away.”

She nods and looks over her shoulder. “Go on through, but don’t be too long.”

“I won’t, I promise. Thank you,” I say, dashing past her desk and pushing open the door that buzzes after Maude presses a button.

I’m nowhere near the emergency room, thankfully. The smell of sterilizer is almost overpowering. A cleaning team up ahead is mopping the floor.

I walk around the Wet Floor sign and peer through his window.

“God,” I whisper.

George is lying in bed, deathly still, eyes closed, hooked up to a machine. His skin is an alarmingly pale shade of gray. The only evidence of life is the slow rising of his gown-covered chest.

“Are you here to visit?” a nurse asks.

I gasp, startled. “Oh, I was just checking in on him.”

“Sorry I scared you. Are you family? We haven’t had much luck getting hold of anyone.”

“He doesn’t really have any. Maude let me in because George has no one here right now. He’s my neighbor’s grandson. My friend.”

“Can you reach his grandparents?”

No, I really can’t.

I lick my lips. “His grandad is hiking, apparently.”

She places her hand over her heart. “Goodness. He doesn’t know about the house or George.”

“When he gets better, there will be a lot of people ready to help.” The words flow from my mouth smoothly. Lies becoming easier to say but harder to live with.

“He has to wake up,” I say, more to myself than anyone.

She squeezes my arm. “Keep faith.”

I watch her walk off and wonder what my friends are thinking. They’ve been quiet since I texted them. They all know what happened, where George is, and not one of them has said more than “Hope he’s okay.”

He’s not okay!

Are they all willing George to wake up, or do they hope he’ll die?

This can’t be real.

Could Jesse really kill in cold blood to keep this secret from being exposed?

Jesse stole Arthur’s car to make it look like he’d taken off. Now this. He’s a lost cause. I understand that now. I started to see darkness in him almost immediately after Arthur died, and it just keeps growing.

Yet I’m the one being excluded from private chats and treated like a pariah.

“I’ll come back. Please hold on,” I whisper to George through the window. Then I leave the hospital and head to school.

The whole drive I’m barely aware. My mind on Jesse and what he’s capable of. I want to believe this was an accident. The wiring in that house can’t be good, but the firefighter said it was likely lit deliberately.

I park in the lot and head into school, almost freezing when I notice my friends bunched together near my locker. Adrenaline spikes, and I want to take them on, get all of this out and beg George for forgiveness…if he makes it.

“What’s going on?” I ask. This wouldn’t be weird pre-Arthur, but they’ve barely spent any time with me since.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jesse snaps.

“I’m not late,” I say. The warning bell hasn’t even rung yet.

“I tried calling,” Atlas says.

Clenching my fists, I ask, “Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing, we just didn’t know where you were,” Jesse says, as if he constantly needs to know my location.

I frown, not really following. “Where was I supposed to be?”

We didn’t have plans to meet or anything.

“Why didn’t you pick up, babe? I was worried.”

My eyes drift to Jesse. How can they stand to be around him after he set Arthur’s house on fire with George inside?

“My phone’s been on silent. I was at the hospital,” I say, holding Jesse’s gaze. “You know, since Arthur’s house was burned to the ground with George inside last night. I went to see if he’s going to pull through or if Jesse has murdered two people.”

“Watch it,” he bites through gritted teeth.

He’s not denying it. He’s not even sorry. He’s standing in front of me with folded arms like I’m the problem. His reaction is all I need. This was definitely Jesse.

Atlas and Luce don’t seem worried or repulsed.

I narrow my eyes. “Or what, you’ll take care of me too?”

“Whoa, calm down,” Atlas says, refereeing. “This is not helpful, Marley.”

My jaw drops open. “Me? How can you say that after what he’s done? George is fighting for his life!”

“I did what was necessary. You should be thanking me because you’re standing here right now and not in a prison cell.”

“Luce, come on,” I say, hoping she will see reason. “You can’t be on their side.”

Jesse puts his arm around her shoulder, and she shakes her head at me. “I don’t like any of this, Marley, but Jesse’s done what he needed to. I have to go to college. I have to, so you need to keep your mouth shut. Okay?”

No, that is not okay! I almost say the words aloud, but something stops me. Fear.

Would they all bury me if Jesse decided I was too much of a risk?

Tears well in my eyes, and I will them not to fall. I don’t want to cry in front of them.

“So that’s it?” I say. “He could’ve been killed! He still might die.”

“George is taken care of,” Jesse says as if he’s already dead.

There have been no improvements, and he’s in a serious condition, but even if he does wake up, I think he’ll be too scared to say anything now. Jesse obviously has no problem killing to save himself.

“Right. Well, okay. I guess I’ll see you guys later.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jesse says, walking away. Luce follows him like the Grim Reaper’s pet.

“Do you think I’m the problem, Atlas?”

“I…No, but I don’t think you’re making it easier. Leave George alone and hold it together. We’ve almost made it out.”

He needs me to pretend harder. To throw away every last ounce of humanity I have left inside me.

“See you at lunch,” I say.

He nods and walks away first. I turn to watch him go, and that’s when I notice Rhett staring at me from the end of the hallway.

He pulls out his phone and holds it up, eyes still piercing through mine.

I stop breathing.

Rhett heads into the classroom nearest me, followed by Ruthie and a couple of her friends.

I turn and run to the bathroom and grip hold of the sink so I don’t pass out. Watching my reflection, I count until I’m sure I’m not going to die. It takes until seventy-two, but I start to feel a bit better.

It’s short-lived because my phone dings.

u better do the dare

I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes, and I miss the moment the message disappears.

The dare. Camping-in-the-forest dare.

It’s him. This is Rhett.