Chapter 15
LENNON
D eparture day for the senior trip dawns warm and sunny. Despite my initial reluctance to attend, I feel the first glimmers of excitement as I head toward the gym to drop off my duffle bag. Anticipation swirls around the hallways so thickly it feels like a tangible presence.
Mr. Tanner is the one who checks me in and hands me a paper tag to attach to my bag. He must be chaperoning, which I’m a little surprised by. I’ve never gotten the impression he got into teaching because he loves spending time with young adults.
“Add it to the stack,” he tells me in an unenthused tone once I’ve written my name on the tag. I toss my duffle bag amongst the designer luggage, and then head toward my homeroom.
I sit down right as the final bell rings, then glance at the empty seat beside me. I work my phone out of my pocket and send Cassie a quick text under the table.
Lennon: Where are you??
She’s never late, so something must be wrong. Cassie’s response comes immediately.
Cassie: I woke up with a fever.
A leaden weight appears in my stomach, guessing what that means. She confirms it a second later.
Cassie: I can’t go on the senior trip.
Any excitement I was experiencing disappears. Cassie is my life vest. Without her, I’ll be adrift, bobbing on the periphery.
I text back saying I hope she feels better soon. Cassie’s been talking about the senior trip for weeks. I’m sure she must be devastated to be missing it.
The school day passes quickly; probably because I’m dreading its ending. After the final bell rings, the senior class separates from the crowd of underclassmen to rush toward the coach buses already loaded with our luggage.
I’m one of the few who trails behind reluctantly.
The inside of the bus is plush. Far from a wheezing, yellow one. The air is being circulated, blowing the artificial scent of cleaner throughout the massive vehicle. The central carpet is a light gray. Oversized seats line it, upholstered with some sort of dark gray leather.
I walk halfway down the aisle until I spot a pair of seats that are empty. I sink down in the one closer to the window.
“This seat taken?” I look up. Will’s hovering in the aisle, looking down at me with a friendly smile.
“Nope,” I reply, smiling back. Since Cassie isn’t coming, I assumed I’d be sitting solo.
Will sinks down beside me. “I figured this was exactly the sort of school-sponsored outing you’d try to avoid.”
I laugh. “I tried. My grandfather thought it would be an important life experience.”
“Survival training would qualify, I guess,” Will replies seriously.
My smile widens. “Yeah, I guess so. Cassie’s sick, though, so it could be a lonely weekend.”
“What do you mean?” Will asks.
“Will. You don’t have to pretend like I have friends aside from Cassie. I got comfortable with being an outcast a long time ago.”
“You’re not an outcast, Lennon,” Will replies. I raise both eyebrows, and he correctly interprets my disbelieving expression. “I mean it. Marcus talked about you showing up at his party for like three days.” Will pauses. “And you seem to be pretty popular with the baseball team.”
I nod, awkwardly.
“Huh,” is all I say in response.
“Some people might surprise you.”
I’m tempted to dismiss Will’s words, but he’s the third person to tell me that. Maybe there’s some truth to it.
“We only have a month of high school left, so now’s the time to make new friends, right?”
Will gives me a small side glance that makes it clear he caught my sarcasm.
I’m distracted from our conversation when the popular contingent passes by our row. None of them bother with a second glance, but the first one I catch suggests Caleb might not be thrilled with my choice of seat companion.
I look away, out the window, and keep staring outside for most of the trip.
It’s a three-hour drive; most of it through the Kentucky wilderness.
Landry might be a small town, but it is a town.
The winding road we’re on takes us past the occasional farm, but then it will be fifteen minutes before we encounter another.
When we finally arrive at the campground, the sun has just begun to set, painting the sky with streaks of yellow, orange, and pink. Groves of pines surround the cabins situated on sandy lake shore. The air is still; the surface of the water peaceful.
Mr. Tanner’s booming baritone breaks the tranquil atmosphere as he calls out the cabin assignments. I’m the first name in cabin five, and to my relief, I hear Julie and Shannon are assigned there as well. Just as important, Madison is not.
We’re assigned to tables in the main dining lodge based on our cabins, which solves one dilemma for me. Caleb doesn’t make any attempt to talk to me during dinner, which resolves another.
There’s a massive campfire blazing next to the lake when we walk back to our cabin after dinner.
I spot a few classmates darting off into the woods, but most people seem to be actually heading into their cabins.
Most everyone is probably biding their time by trying to lull the chaperones into a false sense of security, but I couldn’t care less either way.
I don’t have to pretend like this is my usual bedtime, because it actually is.
I’ve just exited the cabin’s small bathroom in my pajamas when Shannon approaches me. “We’re sneaking out in a bit,” she tells me. “Do you want to come?”
I’m surprised—and touched—she’s including me, but it doesn’t change my answer. “I’m really tired,” I reply, giving her a smile I hope conveys how much her offer means. “Rain check? I’ll go tomorrow night.”
Shannon shrugs. “Okay. Night!”
She slips out of the cabin with the other girls right behind her. I climb the rungs of the ladder to my top bunk bed.
Everything inside the cabin is decorated in soothing tones of off-white, honey wood, and light green. We’re so close to the edge of the lake I can hear the water lapping against the shore, and the sound lulls me to sleep.
* * *
When I descend the ladder the next morning, it’s to a disaster zone. There’s nowhere to step. Clothes, magazines, and makeup cover the floor. Our cabin looks like the aftermath of a middle school slumber party.
I clear a path to my duffle bag by sweeping most of it toward the side of the cabin with my bare feet. I get dressed, use the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then step outside.
It’s early. I didn’t bother to check the time on my phone, but I’m guessing my internal alarm clock ensured I was up no later than usual. The sun has barely begun to rise.
Each cabin has its own front porch, but I don’t stay on mine.
I walk over to the fire pit. Charred remains sit in the center of the stone circle.
There’s a long bench on each of the four sides, a thick tree trunk that looks like it was cleaved in half.
I expect the surface to be rough, but my fingers skim across it without encountering a single splinter.
I take a seat on the one that faces the lake. Mist hovers across its surface, obstructing my view of the smooth water.
“Had a feeling you’d be up.”
I look behind me, although I don’t need to. I recognize his voice immediately.
Caleb’s walking toward me, hands shoved into the front pocket of his Landry Baseball hoodie, and sleep still visible in his blue eyes.
“Habit.” I shrug.
He takes a seat next to me. My body hums from the proximity. It seems like the amount of time I’ve spent this close to him lately should have built up some immunity to his presence, but my body is excruciatingly aware of the short distance between us.
Caleb seems oblivious.
“Want to do some actual sight-seeing?” He nods toward the lake.
“What? Now?”
“No. In three hours when everyone else wakes up.”
I ignore his sarcasm. “I don’t really think we’re supposed to…
” In fact, I’m certain we’re not supposed to leave the campground by ourselves.
And we’re definitely not supposed to go out on the lake by ourselves.
I imagine the only reason none of the chaperones have mentioned it yet is because they didn’t think anyone would be up this early.
Caleb stands and walks toward the shore. “Come on, Matthews. What are they going to do?”
I stand, following his steps to the edge of the lake. “I’m more worried about you getting us lost.”
“It’s a lake, Lennon. We’ll hit shore, eventually.” Caleb grins, and it’s dangerous. Not because it’s the practiced one I’ve seen him give a lot of girls. Because it’s a secret one I’ve only ever seen him give me.
I cave like a poorly stacked house of cards as soon as a dimple appears. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Caleb hauls a bright yellow canoe from behind some ferns and slides the very front into the blue-gray water. “Get in,” he instructs.
I step inside tentatively, grabbing both sides when the canoe rocks unpredictably. I’m certain I hear Caleb chuckle, but when I glance back, his face is as smooth as the water I’m suddenly surrounded by.
In one graceful shove, he jumps in the small boat and pushes us away from shore.
Shifting water gurgles as we move forward, until I can barely tell if we’re moving at all.
Everything around us looks the same. As in, I can’t see anything.
I can hear the dip of Caleb’s paddle and the occasional slosh, but there’s no scenery passing us by. Just gray mist everywhere.
I spin around on the small seat so I can look at Caleb. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“Oh yeah, I paddle through mist all the time,” he tells me, then rolls his eyes.
“We’re lost, right?”
“What do you consider being lost?” Caleb counters.
“Not knowing where you are?”
“I know we’re on a lake, Lennon.”
“Okay, fine. But do you know when we’ll no longer be on the lake? If we’ll ever make it back to Landry?”
“No.”
“So, you admit we’re lost?”
Caleb chuckles. “No.”
“How big is this lake?” I ask.
“No idea,” Caleb responds.
“Did you go out last night?” I focus my attention on a small ant creeping along the side of the canoe. If it falls, it’ll drown.