Chapter Thirteen
Then
Thirty-Nine Days Before the Fire
The night of the Lady’s Lurch hike, someone ransacked an empty cabin in the Staff Village.
Just like Kendall had said, more kids were claiming to have seen some kind of hooded figure, sneaking past their cabins. Sheriff Ramon had searched the perimeter of Dread’s Cove at my mother’s insistence, but no one had any idea who it could be, or what they wanted.
No matter how many times my mom expressed the importance of taking roll before bed, of diligently doing nightly rounds, the sightings kept happening.
I knew there was no monster in the woods, but even still—something bad was happening.
When I ran back to Black Bass after breakfast one morning, needing to grab my extra beach towel before heading to the lake, all the lights were on inside.
My heart rate spiked, and I thought immediately of the Phantom, even though it was midmorning.
“Hello?” I called from the doorway, scared to walk all the way in.
A second later, Steph appeared from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head.
She looked like she was getting ready for bed, even though it was barely 9:00 a.m. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting any interruptions.
We’d parted ways less than ten minutes ago—Chelsea and I were taking our girls to the lake for free swim, and she and Margo were heading out to the rec center for rock climbing.
I didn’t think I’d see her until at least lunch.
But here she was. After a weird moment where we gaped at each other, she laughed. “You scared me, Little G. Thought you might have been the Phantom coming to kill me.”
I raised an eyebrow. I’d been thinking of the Phantom, too, but she’d said it like it was all a big joke—like this Phantom thing hadn’t been making the younger kids cry when they went back to their cabins at night for the past few weeks.
Even Chelsea and I, who’d grown up walking through these woods alone, had started checking over our shoulders anytime we were out past dusk.
Steph flopped down on her bed and pulled a magazine into her lap. I didn’t want to be a narc, but I had to ask. “Sorry, but what are you doing in here? I thought you guys had rock wall this morning?”
Her eyes flickered up from the magazine. “I’ve got a migraine. I get really bad insomnia in the summertime. Something about all the light, I don’t know. I didn’t sleep very well, and Margo was cool with me hanging back.”
“Do you need to go to the nurse? We can…” I tapered off when her expression changed into something more vulnerable. I had the sudden, strange premonition that she might be about to cry.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” She let out a breath, then set the magazine down. She hesitated only a moment before patting the space beside her on the bed. I crossed the room and dropped down beside her.
“My dad would have been forty-six today.” Her words were somehow both harsh and empty. “He died of stomach cancer. Six years ago—today. On his birthday. So, I guess I’m not really in the mood to…I’m not in the mood for anything.”
“Oh my God, Steph, I’m so sorry,” I said, my heart splintering.
I never would have thought that Steph Bennett didn’t live a life that was as shiny and carefree as she was.
Then again, I hadn’t expected Trevor to have so many issues with his dad, either.
“Do you, I mean—do you want to talk about it? Tell me about him.”
Both Steph and Margo had been hush-hush about their personal histories.
I knew that they’d met their freshman year in the dorms at the University of Georgia and had been best friends ever since.
They were both about to move to Atlanta and share an apartment in some trendy neighborhood, though Margo was going on a six-month Euro trip first. I knew that Margo loved to read and that Stephanie loved to talk.
I knew their plans, their hobbies, their favorite movies (Steph’s was Legally Blonde, Margo’s was Cruel Intentions).
But on their families, they’d been pretty mum.
Steph sighed. “Cold. Distant. We were never that close, even when I was a little kid. You know I lived with my aunt and uncle most of the time. They adopted me when I was ten. I took their last name and everything. He couldn’t really handle the whole dad thing. I think he—”
There was a long, quiet beat where I knew she was weighing how much to tell me.
“I think he blamed me for my mother leaving.” Her eyes were closed so tightly it looked painful.
I’d gathered that her mom wasn’t in the picture, but for whatever reason, I’d assumed she’d died. “Your mom left? When you were a baby?”
She gave a single, slow nod, eyes still closed.
“And she’s never reached out to you, or anything?”
“No.” The word wasn’t loud, but it was final.
There was a tear leaking out of the corner of her eye, snaking its way down the side of her face. She caught me looking and wiped it away.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry—”
“It’s fine,” she said quietly. I could tell it wasn’t. “Honestly, Little G, I don’t feel like talking about it.”
“Of course. I’ll go, if you’d rather be alone.” I felt terrible for pushing her, especially because I understood. I’d been left behind by a parent, too.
“Don’t leave,” she said quickly.
Since I’d met Steph, I’d yet to hear her sound this unsure. This gutted.
“Just…talk to me about something else. Please.”
She leaned back on the bed, and I followed her lead. She’d taped a few photos on the underside of Chelsea’s bunk. A couple had Margo, other girls from their sorority. Her aunt and uncle. I seized the perfect opportunity for a subject change.
“Is this Paris?” I ran my finger across one with Steph sitting at a café, next to a woman I guessed was her aunt.
“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “And that one’s in Amsterdam,” she added, pointing to the one beside it.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“My Uncle Teddy is a pilot,” she explained. “He likes to bring us with him.” Then she scrunched her nose at me, as if realizing something. “Wait, have you never been? We should go!”
I was both embarrassed at being caught and elated that she would so casually mention something like going on a trip together.
“Actually, I’ve never been out of Georgia.”
Steph sat up at this, almost thumping her head on the bed frame. “Are you for real? So you’ve never been on a plane?”
I shifted, slightly uncomfortable now. “Never.”
“But don’t you, like, want to?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Do I want to what?”
“Leave.”
She said it so simply, like that was something anyone could do. Leave, like my dad had. No care for any of the destruction left in his wake. Leave, like her mother had, too.
I chose my words carefully, feeling like I was on the precipice of something dangerous. Something I couldn’t take back. Finally, I whispered, “Maybe. But I don’t know where I’d go. My whole life is here.”
“So you have thought about it,” she said.
“I have,” I admitted. “I’ve always liked the idea of Colorado.”
Steph clasped my hand in hers. “So, why don’t you just do it? Move to Colorado. What are you so scared of?”
“I’m not scared, it’s just—complicated. I don’t know anyone there, I don’t know what I would even do there—”
“You are scared.” Not a question, a statement. “I can see it. You’re scared to admit that you want things you aren’t supposed to want.” Her eyes flashed. “You don’t want to run this camp, do you? At least not yet. You want to build your own life. Design your own road map.”
I felt completely exposed, like a deer in headlights.
Her mouth curved into a small smile. “Well, I’m your biggest supporter.
If you want to leave, leave. I’ll even help you figure it out.
” She leaned in closer, bumping her shoulder against mine.
“If it isn’t obvious, I have no idea what I want to do yet, either.
We can make our maps together. How does that sound? ”
I gave her a small nod, and she squeezed my hand, satisfied. “And—for the record—if you want to make out with Trevor, you should definitely make out with Trevor.”
The grin spread wide across my face. I’d told her about the hike the second we’d gotten back, and she’d been immediately in favor of it.
“I think I’m, like, obsessed with him,” I whispered, and Steph threw her head back and cackled, the sound bouncing around the cabin. Outside, birds startled and flew away.
“But seriously, Little G. You can do anything you want. You’ve got more power than you think. And if you’ve got the power to do something, and you don’t do it, that’s worse than not having the power at all, isn’t it?”
—
When I got to the lake a few minutes later, Chelsea was talking to Trevor. He flashed a grin when he saw me, and all of my internal organs did somersaults.
“There she is,” he said. “I was starting to think you were playing hooky.”
For the thousandth time in the past two days, I thought about our conversation at Lady’s Lurch. The way he’d looked at me. Remembering it made the butterflies start up again.
“Sorry that took so long,” I said, going for breezy. “Did I miss anything?”
Trevor waved my apology away. “No, you’re all good. Chels and I were just talking about Saturday night.”
My mind went completely blank as Trevor and I locked eyes for a second too long. Chelsea cleared her throat, breaking whatever spell we’d both briefly been under.
“Well, I’ll get back to it,” he said, nodding his head toward the dock house, and the three Brook Trout girls who were waiting with crossed arms for him to pull out kayaks.
“What was that?” Chelsea asked when he was just out of earshot.
Heat crawled up my neck. “What do you mean?”
“You’re being weird. You won’t even look at me.” It only took another second of silence before she said, “Oh my God, you’re hooking up with Trevor, aren’t you?”
I huffed a startled breath, glancing toward a group of girls gathered on the shore. “I am not,” I said, but the strain in my voice was clear.
“Does Wes know?”