57. Harper
Chapter 57
Harper
Scarstone Lake is many things, but pretty it isn’t. It’s majestic, for sure. Maybe even haunting. But it’s not the kind of lake you splash around in on a summer’s day with your friends. Spanning in all directions as far as the eye can see. Spanning as far as the eye can see, I’m sure it would have looked like an ocean if the opposite bank wasn’t framed by the Littlerock mountain range.
The dark rocks lining the lake turn its waters black and gives a surreal cast to the reflection of the snowy mountains in the distance. Then there’s the smell. Not exactly swampy, but definitely not freshwater. It’s like parts of the lake are stagnant, and that rot is slowly spreading to the rest.
Maybe it’s just the mood I’m in. Fuck, it’s probably because I’m well past buzzed and heading swiftly for stinking drunk.
I regard the two bottles perched beside me on the flat rock that juts out over the bank. There are quite a few of these big, flat rocks, and the ones I passed all have long, shallow gouges in their surfaces. It’s like some ancient monster clawed its way out of the depths of the black lake and its claws left those scars in the stones as it hauled itself out.I’m pretty sure that’s how the lake got its name.
Wow, I really need to sober up if I’m imagining the Loch Ness monster in a place as charmingly dull as Cinderhart.
I tip the whiskey against my lips and don’t even wince as the alcohol burns its way down my throat. In fact, I hardly feel it.
I hardly feel anything anymore.
Is Mom worried about me? Ha. They’re so busy at work, I doubt they even know I’m gone yet.
And Jude?
I snort-giggle and take another swig from the whiskey. I’ve been favoring the Bailey’s most of the afternoon, and I don’t want to finish it just yet. I’m so drunk that this horrible Jim Bean stuff doesn’t taste that bad. In fact, it tastes like?—
Jude’s mouth would have if he’d have kissed me in the screening room yesterday.
I laugh again, louder this time. It’s not like anyone can hear me. I caught the bus here—there’s one that heads down Bug Ash Road twice a day according to the schedule at the bus stop. I think it’s mainly to cater for students at Cinderhart Academy coming and going from town, but it also goes past a bunch of lookout points and picnic spots along Scarstone Lake. If I’m not mistaken, the spires nestled in the forest on the opposite bank might be Cinderhart Academy’s main school building.
It looks so romantic, hidden away like that. Like a secret world. No wonder everyone at Cinderhart High is dying to get in there. From what Marissa told me, the tuition is ridiculously expensive, and the scholarships are almost impossible to get.
Jude got one.
I heard rumors yesterday, and Eliza confirmed it when we passed each other in the hall. I was surprised she was being civil with me. Not even civil—she was downright pleasant. Which is weird, because I thought she’d shun me or something when I couldn’t get her a seat on the Festival of Ashes committee. She also told me that Talia was looking for me, but I wasn’t in a mood to deal with money transfers right then because, by that time, people had already started staring and whispering.
Which makes me wonder…Had she seen the video already? Was that why Eliza was being so nice?
Bitch.
I give another rueful laugh and take a sip of Bailey’s next.
As I turn to put down the bottle, four guys slink out of the shadows beneath a nearby birch tree.
My heart gives a solid thump inside my chest. How long were they standing there for? Did they hear me cackling like a lunatic? I changed out of my school clothes at the bus stop—didn’t want any nosy bystanders contacting the school to say one of their pupils was ditching. I’m wearing the clothes I arrived at Cinderhart in—a faded hoody, torn jeans, and five-year-old sneakers with a small hole in the front right toe. I probably look like a fucking hobo.
“Hey,” one of the guys calls out. He has dark hair and light-colored eyes but they stop too far away for me to make out much more. At first I think they’re from my high school but their blazers have a different cut and the silver trim seems to sparkle a lot more. Two of them aren’t wearing their blazers, but they have the same dress shirts and black slacks.
What is a bunch of academy students doing out here in the middle of the day? It must be at least a three-hour walk back to Cinderhart Academy.
I don’t say anything, willing them to go away and leave me alone. The guy who spoke comes closer, while the rest hang back, talking quietly amongst themselves. Too quietly for me to hear.Too quietly for it not to be suspicious.
“You new in town?” he asks. He stops a few yards away, standing with his hands in his pockets. He’s tall, clean-shaven.
I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to talk to anyone . That’s why I left my phone at home. I just need space to process all the shit that’s happened in the past few days. There’s so much I need to come to terms with, I don’t even know where to start.
“Not to be rude, but I just want to be alone.”
The guy makes a point of looking at the bottles of alcohol next to me. “I can see that.” He glances around and then comes a little closer. “But I’d suggest you go do that somewhere else. The sheriff sometimes sends patrols out here. They’ll arrest you for underage drinking.”
I almost bark out “who died and made you king?” but I think better of it.It’s as good a cue as any for me to get the fuck out of here, which I suddenly desperately want to do. It’s not this guy who’s freaking me out, it’s the other three. I don’t like how they’re conspiring out of earshot over there.
And from the looks they keep sending my way, it’s definitely me they’re discussing.
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” I grab the bottles and shove them into my backpack before rushing to my feet. Which is when I realize that I should have waited for the guys to leave before attempting to get up, because I had no idea how drunk I was until right now.
The black lake, the blue sky, the white-and-brown trees—they all blur around me as I stagger and try to find my balance.
“One too many, huh?” the dark-haired guy says with a laugh.He comes closer, holding out his hands like he wants to catch or grab me if I happen to fall his way.
“I’m fine,” I mutter through gritted teeth as I wheel my arms down to the ground and crouch.
“Let me help you down.”
“I’m good,” I tell him, standing and carefully backing up when he comes closer. And then, because he starts climbing up the rock anyway, I add, “You should go. My boyfriend isn’t going to like me talking to other guys.”
“Your boyfriend, huh?” The guy grins at me like a fucking shark. He’s hot, in a roguish way, but I don’t like his smile one bit. “If you ask me, he shouldn’t let his girlfriend drink alone in such a dangerous place.”
The only thing dangerous around here are these guys.
Shit, what am I going to do? Suddenly, leaving my phone at home doesn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. Neither does coming out here by myself.
I turn and scramble down the rock as fast as I can. I turn tail and run, desperatelytrying to keep my footing on the smooth surface. Thankfully, the gouges in the surface help when my sneakers start slipping. I jump onto the ground and bolt away, going so fast I lose control of my legs a few yards later and end up on my hands and knees. The bottles in my backpack clank together so hard I’ll be shocked if they didn’t break.
I spin around, my heart hammering in my chest. The CA guys watch my frantic escape with expressionless faces. But they don’t come after me.
As soon as I get my legs under me, I’m gone.