Chapter 12 #2
Sloane and a Legacy guy named Reid were sitting a few feet away on a log, angled toward each other. I hadn’t really been paying attention to them before, but then I noticed Sloane’s hand slowly sliding up Reid’s arm.
She leaned in. At first, I thought she was whispering something to him. But then his hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer, and—
Oh.
I blinked.
They were kissing. Not subtly, either. It was… a lot.
I glanced at Jasmine. She was already staring at the two of them, her brows pulled together in disbelief. “Are you guys seeing this?” she muttered under her breath.
“Unfortunately,” I murmured back.
“Yeah, it’s kinda hard to miss,” Wren added.
Sloane shifted on the log, one leg sliding over Reid, her fingers tangling in the front of his shirt as she pulled him closer. He made a low sound against her mouth, his hand moving up along her side like he’d forgotten there were twenty-seven other people sitting within a ten-foot radius.
Jesse snickered. “Who needs Pornhub when you’ve got this show?”
Tamsin scoffed and shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Delia hasn’t even been dead for twenty-four hours, and that’s what those two are in the mood for?”
Jesse lifted his palms. “Hey, you know what they say.” He paused and adopted a mock-dramatic voice. “Life finds a way.”
“Oh my god, are you seriously quoting Jurassic Park?” Tamsin replied, a faint smile breaking through as the rest of us laughed.
“Yeah, shouldn’t you be quoting Friday the 13th instead?” Jasmine said. “Or… wait, what’s that other one called? Where that camp counselor gets pinned to the door with a speargun?”
The laughter instantly died.
“Oh my god, guys, relax!” Jasmine said. “It’s a joke.”
Wren shifted uncomfortably. “I get it,” she said in a low voice. “I just don’t think it’s funny.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes and jabbed a thumb in Jesse’s direction. “So he’s allowed to quote movies, but when I do it, it’s suddenly a problem?”
“I was quoting a dinosaur movie, Jas,” Jesse said. “You were talking about movies where camp counselors get murdered. Bit different.”
“Really, guys?” Jasmine looked around. “When did you all get so fucking serious?”
“Probably around the time we saw Delia pinned to that wall,” Tamsin snapped. “I know you didn’t like her, but for fuck’s sake, Jasmine… you can still have a little empathy, you know?”
Jasmine’s expression hardened. For a second, it looked like she was about to fire back, but the words didn’t come. Or maybe she just swallowed them.
“Whatever,” she ended up muttering.
The silence that followed felt heavier than anything that had come before it.
Around us, the low hum of conversation from the other nearby groups had started to taper off, people glancing over as they sensed the awkward shift.
Even the crackle of the fire suddenly seemed louder, filling the space where our laughter had been a few minutes ago.
Tamsin exhaled slowly and pushed herself to her feet. “I think I’ll call it a night,” she said, brushing her hands off on her jeans. “It’s getting late, and I still need to shower.”
Wren stood almost immediately. “Yeah. Same,” she said, avoiding Jasmine’s eyes.
Jesse glanced between them, then nodded. “I’ll go find Simon and see if he’s ready to head off too.”
Tamsin looked down at me. “Are you coming?” she asked. “We can all just go together.”
I hesitated. Jasmine was still sitting stiffly beside me, jaw tight as she glared into the fire, making it all too obvious she didn’t intend to go with the others.
Part of me wanted to go with them anyway, because of her bad mood. But she was still my cabinmate, and the idea of leaving her didn’t sit right with me.
I lifted my can slightly and forced a small, neutral shrug. “I’ll hang out here a little longer,” I said. “I still need to finish my drink.”
Tamsin gave me a tight smile. “Okay.”
“Don’t stay out too late,” Wren added.
“Yeah,” Jesse said. “Stay safe. Both of you.”
“We will,” I said.
They lingered for a second longer, like they weren’t entirely sure about leaving. Then they turned and headed off toward the path, their figures quickly swallowed by the dark.
I spent the next few minutes quietly finishing my drink, eyes fixed on the fire as it shifted and crackled in front of us. Jasmine didn’t say anything either. Just picked at a loose thread on her jeans until she finally let out a sharp breath.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “That was bad, wasn’t it?”
“Um. Kinda, yeah.”
She huffed out a humorless laugh, snapping a twig between her fingers. “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I know what I’m like,” she said. “I just… I go from zero to a hundred over nothing. And then I hear myself halfway through and it’s like—” She made a face. “Too late.”
“It’s been a messed-up couple of days,” I said, reaching over to give her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Everyone’s on edge.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve always been like this,” she said, a little more quietly. “I get pissed off, I snap and say shit I don’t mean, and then I don’t wanna back down and say sorry because I think it makes me look like an idiot.” Another small shrug. “It’s a great system. Really working for me.”
I smiled faintly. “Well, you did apologize. To me, at least. So that’s a start.”
She sighed and glanced toward the cabins, then back at the fire. “I’ll say something to the others tomorrow.”
“Good idea.”
She nodded, then leaned back on her hands, staring into the flames. After a second, she looked at me again. “Thanks for not ditching me.”
For a while, neither of us said anything else. The fire burned down a little, and around us, conversations started to thin out, voices dropping as more and more people drifted off in small groups toward the bathroom blocks or the cabins.
Jasmine finally shifted beside me, glancing toward the dark stretch of path that led toward our cabin. “We should probably shower before we sleep,” she said after a moment. “I feel like I’ve got half the forest on me.”
“Yeah, same,” I said. “Let’s go grab our stuff.”
We stepped away from the fire together, the warmth falling off almost immediately as we moved into the darker stretch of ground beyond.
Once we had our towels and toiletries, we headed toward the closest bathroom block.
The path there cut through a thin strip of trees, the gravel crunching underfoot loud enough to make me hyper-aware of every step we took.
Everything just felt too quiet. Too exposed.
I glanced over my shoulder once, just to check, but there was nothing there. No one.
The bathroom block came into view a minute later, its exterior lights humming faintly. A group of guys were several yards ahead of us, veering off toward the men’s side, their voices low but still carrying enough to cut through the quiet.
The door swung shut behind them, and just like that, the noise dropped off.
Jasmine and I both slowed a little as we approached the entrance to the women’s side. It was empty. No voices. No movement. Just the dull buzz of the overhead lights and the faint echo of dripping water somewhere inside.
Jasmine hesitated in the doorway, peering in like she half-expected someone to jump out at us. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Why does this suddenly feel really creepy?”
“Probably because we’re basically in a real-life horror movie right now,” I said, raising a brow.
She huffed, then glanced at me, something uncertain flickering across her face.
“This might sound weird, but… do you wanna just use the same cubicle?” she asked.
“Not at the same time, obviously. I’ll just face the door or something while you shower.
” She paused, gesturing vaguely. “It’s just…
I don’t love the idea of us being separated by walls right now. Even for five minutes.”
I nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“Okay. Good.” She exhaled, like she’d been bracing for me to laugh at her. “Let’s do it.”
We stepped inside together, making our way toward the row of shower cubicles on the right. Jasmine picked the one closest to the entrance and pushed the curtain aside.
“I’ll stand here,” she said, positioning herself just inside the doorway with her back to the rest of the cubicle. “You go first.”
I set my things down on the small bench, trying to ignore the way the space felt tighter than usual, like the walls had closed in just a fraction. Behind me, Jasmine shifted slightly.
“Door’s right there,” she said. “Anyone comes in, I’ll see them straight away, and I’ve got my knife in case they try some shit. You brought yours too, right?”
“Yup,” I murmured as I reached for the tap. Right beneath my toiletries bag, there was a big chef's knife in a canvas sheath that I'd nabbed from the kitchen earlier. “Although I really wish I had a gun instead.”
“Me too,” Jasmine said with a sigh.
The pipes rattled for a second before the water came on, the steady rush filling the space. I waited for it to heat up for a moment, and then I stepped inside, briefly closing my eyes as the warmth rushed over me.
Jasmine spoke up again, her voice a little louder over the sound of the water. “You think you’ll ever sign up for a camp counselor gig again?”
“Hell no. You?”
She snorted. “Nope. I’ve loved every summer out here so far, and it’s good money, but…” She trailed off for a few seconds. “No amount of money is worth this shit.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t think I’ll even go for a five-minute hike in the woods after this is over,” she went on. “I’m done.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said as I lathered up my head with shampoo.
“Hey, maybe I’ll move down to the city! Then we can hang out more, and you can use those journalism skills of yours to help me write a book about our experience here. If we actually make—” She cut herself off abruptly and cleared her throat. “When we make it out of here. Which we will.”
“Yeah,” I said, rinsing the shampoo from my hair. “Of course we will.”
“Maybe they’ll even make a movie about us.”
I huffed out a quiet laugh, though it felt forced.