Firefly Effect

Prologue

Wild flamesfrom the campfire danced between us, the bright-orange glow resembling a bald cypress tree bowing and rustling with the wind. If only the imagery was enough to shield my view from him—Foster Pruitt, the cute older boy with the thick chestnut hair and intense focus on everything but me.

Not even his lack of acknowledgment was enough to stop the pitter-patter running rampant in my chest when I caught a glimpse of him.

“Tell us the story,” Kyle, a boy my age sitting near Foster, asked my Uncle Patrick. “The one about the Firefly Man.”

The wide eyes of every kid there fixed on my uncle, who sat beside me. Uncle Patrick had been forced to retell the same spooky story every night since we’d arrived at Deep Creek Campground.

Meanwhile, Foster’s natural pout deepened. “Again?”

His gaze shifted around the fire, as if to see if anyone would object, but he seemed to be the only one with a problem, and I didn’t know why. Not even I was sick of hearing this folklore for the fifth night in a row.

Just then, Lilith, a girl Foster’s age, sat down on the log between Foster and Kyle. She was wearing a short black skirt and tight black tank top that revealed a hint of cleavage. Jealousy swirled in my heart—Lilith had a far better chance of getting Foster’s attention than I ever could.

From my other side, Carley, Foster’s younger sister, elbowed me gently. “Lilith needs to get a clue. Foster hasn’t spoken a word to her all week.”

Her words soothed the daggers of envy swirling through me, and I smiled back at her, amused. “Really? She’s so pretty.”

Carley rolled her eyes. “She’s annoying. That’s what she is.”

Stifling a laugh, I watched Foster as Lilith whispered to him, his frown deepening by the second. As cute as Foster was, I couldn’t miss the constant glower on his beautiful face, like he lived beneath a cloud of gloom and doom. All I wanted to do was make him smile—but I was running out of time.

“You want the Firefly Man story again? Are you sure?” Uncle Patrick teased the lot of us.

“Yes!” several of us called simultaneously.

“Please, Patrick,” Carley added.

“It’s the last night. You have to,” said Kyle.

“It’s tradition,” Janessa reminded him.

Janessa was right. Every night, before we went out to watch the synchronous fireflies ceremoniously select their mates, Uncle Patrick would retell the story of a mysterious hiker who stalked the woods every year around this time. The Firefly Man’s mission was to scare away anyone who attempted to disturb his precious fireflies or their mating ritual that illuminated the woods.

Patrick cleared his throat and began to speak. Just like every other night, my friends and I huddled around the fire and giggled at the story. Meanwhile, I kept sneaking glances at the boy scowling from across the fire. I couldn’t look away.

“Daydreaming will get you nowhere, my dear,” my mother would often taunt when she caught me in a similar trance. I could hear those words rushing through my mind now as if she were here. While I hated admitting when my mother was right, Foster had clearly stolen my attention ever since Uncle Patrick and I had arrived here last week.

Not that I could help it.

At first glance, I saw that they didn’t make boys like Foster back in Raleigh. At least, not that I’d ever noticed. He was different—quietly observant, oblivious to my family’s wealth, and seemingly fascinated by the nature that surrounded us.

I desperately wanted him to be just as fascinated with me.

He was just so… interesting. Especially when compared to Carley. The siblings were opposites in most cases, but I loved how he watched out for his little sister.

I wondered if anyone else looked out for her like he did. Carley was a wild child, a rebel, but with the sweetest heart of anyone I had ever met. She had a curiosity that craved adventure, and I adored the way she often dragged me along for the ride. I felt like we’d known each other our whole lives rather than just the five days we’d spent together this week.

“Evelyn Beatrice Vaughn, did you hear me?” Carley asked.

My head whipped in Carley’s direction. The girl had an amazing memory, given she’d just asked me what my middle name was while swimming earlier in the day.

“Yes,” I said automatically, realizing Patrick had already finished telling the Firefly Man story.

She grinned. “Well, are you just going to sit there and stare at my brother all night, or are you coming with us?”

Heat blazed in my cheeks like a wildfire. Luckily, daylight was fading, making my blush difficult to see. I couldn’t believe Carley had practically caught me drooling while staring at her brother.

“What?” I laughed. “I was just thinking about that story,” I lied, covering my shame with a smile.

Carley’s giggle came with a wave of her hand, telling me she didn’t care if I was gawking at her brother. “You mean the same firefly tale your uncle has told us every single night this week? Has he always had such a wild imagination?”

I nodded. My eyes were wide as I tried to select my words in a way that would paint her a picture. “You should see his book collection. He has so many that he started building bookshelves in his bar. They take up practically every single wall from the floor to the ceiling.”

Beside the outdoors, my uncle’s bar was my favorite place to be when I got to stay with him. He even named the bar Firefly thanks to my love for the tiny creatures.

“Wow,” she said in a dreamlike state. “I’d love to see that. I have to beg my parents to take me to the library.” Her eyes dimmed with sadness. “We can’t afford to have bookshelves like that.”

Guilt pelted me in the gut. “You should come by Firefly on your way out of town.” I grinned. “I’ll have Patrick find a way to convince your parents.”

Carley perked up and squeezed my hand. “That would be the coolest.”

I smiled, unable to control my overwhelming sense of hope at the thought getting to spend a day with her among my uncle’s bookshelves.

“We should go.” Carley seemed barely able to contain her joy as she tugged me forward. “Everyone’s already heading into the woods. Last one to the creek jumps in.”

My enthusiasm mirrored hers, even though she couldn’t see it. I’d learned at a young age to hide my emotions at all costs. Vulnerability was a window into the soul—a weakness my mother could never bear to witness.

Still, excitement compounded in my chest just thinking about the entire reason I begged my parents to continue letting me come to Bryson City, North Carolina, for the summers—the synchronous firefly show. When I was younger, nothing was more magical than watching the entire woods erupt with blue and green sparkling lights.

I looked over to the nature trailhead where our peers were walking into the woods, chanting, “Run, run, as fast as you can—you can’t catch me, I’m the Firefly Man,” followed by hysterical laughter.

“Evie!” my uncle called.

I halted and looked over my shoulder at Uncle Patrick, who stood with all the other parents and a few more of his friends. They all held red Solo cups filled with some alcohol mixture that seemed to be endless in its supply.

“Remember to stay on the path,” he warned. “And don’t stay out too late. We’ll be playing cards at Jimmy’s campsite. Find me there when you’re done.”

“Okay!” I said, more than happy to oblige. Who would want a detour into the freakishly scary woods in the dark, anyway?

Patrick smiled. “Have fun, Evie girl.”

With another tug of Carley’s hand, I followed her, astutely aware that Foster was right beside us.

Once we were around the first bend of the trail, Carley stopped, a wicked look flashing across her face. She pulled something out of the inside pocket of her jean jacket. As soon as I saw the glass mason jar, unease filtered through me.

“Carley, no…” Panic beat at my chest like a warning cry.

Her eyes twinkled. “Why not? It’s our last night.”

My disbelieving gaze bounced between Carley and Foster. Shock and confusion flowed through me like a tidal wave. Until that night, we’d never tried to trap the fireflies. No one broke that rule. After all, the moral of the Firefly Man tale was to let nature be. “W-what about the Firefly Man?”

Carley’s laughter made my cheeks flame. I hadn’t thought through my question before asking, but after it slipped out, I realized how immature I sounded.

Foster’s reaction was different, his downturned mouth creating yet another frown that did little to alleviate the intensity of my attraction.

Carley stepped toward me, her freckled features mischievous. “That’s just a silly campfire tale, Evelyn.” Her smile was warm and reassuring—she must have sensed my panic. “Besides, it’s not like we’ll keep them in the jar to die. We’ll let them go.”

Relief eased my tension. How bad could it be if no harm came to the innocent creatures?

“Here,” Foster said, revealing his own jar and holding it out to me. Just the sound of his voice had my heart tripling its beat. “You can use mine.”

My eyes locked in on the round top and metal latch of the jar before I looked back up at him. My heart caught in my chest as I stared back into a sea of green. Gold specks swam within them, distracting me momentarily from my shame. I was caught between fear of the Firefly Man and attraction to the boy I had been crushing on all week.

I didn’t even have time to return the jar before Carley clutched my arm and started to pull me in the direction of the woods, my heart practically kicking out of my ribs. Guilt knotted inside at the thought of disobeying the one person who had ever truly taken care of me.

Patrick told that story before the mating ritual began for a reason. Fireflies were becoming endangered, thanks to light pollution and the destruction of their natural habitat. I didn’t want a part in any of that, yet I couldn’t say no to Carley and her brother.

The three of us were the last ones to enter the woods. We followed a dirt trail that wound through the trees and veered off in various directions like a spiderweb. In daylight, the trails were easy to navigate, the tree cover sparse enough to see far in the distance. As nightfall descended and the sounds of woodland creatures filled the air, the world around us began to alter into something I didn’t recognize.

Maybe my fifteen-year-old imagination was at play or my senses had gone completely out of whack in the presence of a cute boy, but it felt like I’d just stepped out of my boring life and straight into one of my mystery novels. I didn’t know what would be waiting for me when I turned the page.

A squeal split the air, and Carley’s fingers slipped from mine and pointed straight ahead. “Look! It’s starting.”

My head turned to find nothing but a faint outline of the trees, but I knew in mere seconds my eyes would adjust to the heartbeat of the marsh. That was what my uncle called the entire mating phenomenon, when male fireflies flashed their light to attract a mate and the females flashed back if they liked what they saw.

That night, it took a bit of focus for my eyes to adjust to the tiny sparkles and streaks that flickered in the distance, but as they did, I became mesmerized like I was seeing it all for the first time. The trees simply disappeared and were replaced by a bioluminescent light show I would never get enough of, while cicadas, crickets, and who-knows-what-else provided the soundtrack for the night.

A blueish-white streak crossed my vision, and my eyes followed it into the distance. “Wow, the blue ghosts look so pretty tonight.”

Carley’s jaw dropped—she’d just noticed the rare species of fireflies too. “I’ve never seen so many of them mix with the synchronous ones.” She turned to her brother, eyes wide with delight. “Have you, Foster?”

He shrugged. “Don’t think so.”

She laughed at his disinterest and grabbed his hand. “Did you know the blue-ghost ones can light up for almost a minute? That’s why you see those streaks through the air.”

Again, he didn’t react to the fun facts Carley was spitting out, but she didn’t seem to care. Instead, she took the lead, charging ahead and venturing farther down the path. Once Carley got ready to capture the tiny insects, I copied everything she did. How she unlocked the metal clasp of her jar then held it snugly in the palm of her hand. How she slowed her pace while her captivated eyes locked on the lights flickering around her. And how, with a twist of her palm, she captured her first firefly, catching and trapping it in one quick motion.

My breath came fast as I watched the light dance around her jar. Instinctively, I turned to find Foster, expecting to see him wearing one of his deep frowns or contemplative looks. This time was different—a hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he watched his sister’s joy.

That was all it took for me to open the lid of my jar. One by one, the glass wall brightened with the glow of a dozen tiny fireflies—innocent beings, their lifespans a blip in comparison to humans. But I couldn’t get over the magic created in their combined light.

I hadn’t even noticed that the others in our group had veered off in different directions until Carley darted away from the path and farther into the woods, something my uncle had told me not to do under any circumstances. I was to stay on the trail, and I had promised that I would.

My feet halted, the thought of disobeying Uncle Patrick an invisible collar around my neck, pulling me back.

“Carley, we need to stay on the trail,” I called, unable to contain my alarm.

She didn’t stop. Instead, she tossed me a grin over her shoulder then ran even faster. “Run, run as fast as you can, Evelyn! They’ll be easier to catch out here!”

“Carley, wait up!” Foster yelled. He took a step off the trail toward his sister but stopped to look back at me. “I have to follow her. Come with us.” He gestured to the flashlight he carried, which he had covered with red cellophane to allow night vision. “I have light.”

In true stubborn-Evie fashion, I held up my mason jar. “So do I.” But when I looked at the jar, I frowned. While I had some light, the jar full of fireflies I’d collected didn’t provide enough to help me actually see my way through the darkened woods.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t get my uncle’s warning out of my head. I looked around for a path that veered in the same direction Carley had gone. “I’ll stay on the path. You should find Carley.”

Foster frowned and seemed to hesitate for a second. “Suit yourself.” Then he paused and looked back at me with a sarcastic rise of his brows before following his sister. “Just don’t make any sudden movements. You know, in case the Firefly Man is watching.”

My jaw dropped as I watched him turn and dart into the woods. Suddenly, Foster Pruitt wasn’t so attractive anymore. He looked the opposite of cute, and I glared at his back, hoping he could feel my irritation, until he completely faded from view. A moment later, I continued down the path, trying my best to not think about the fact that I was all alone.

Insides rattling with fear, I walked for what felt like the next hour. Time slowed in the worst possible way. My ears became tuned into any small noise, but that backfired—the slightest rustle of a tree or crunch of a leaf sent me into an anxiety tailspin. If I could just find any of the dozen others who had gone into the woods, I would have felt so much better.

Eventually, I arrived at an intersection. One way pointed back to camp, and the other led to the creek. But I needed to find Carley, at least, if not her stupid brother. With a low growl, I stomped down the path that led to the creek.

“Run, run as fast as you can.” The words were just a whispering hiss, slithering through the woods.

My heart leapt into my throat as I spun around. “It’s not funny if I can’t see you,” I growled angrily.

A low chuckle followed the haunting rhyme, then I heard feet pounding, charging toward me. A scream ripped from my throat as a figure jumped forward, arms raised and ready to attack.

The moment the figure landed, I held up my jar for light to find Gabe bursting into boisterous and annoying laughter. My fist flew out, socking him in the chest. “You asshole. I almost murdered you with my jar of fireflies.”

He laughed even harder, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, come on, Evelyn. You had it coming walking out here alone.”

“Yeah, well.” I punched him again, this time making him wince. “That’s how I like it. Go away, Gabe.”

He raised his hands and backed up. “Geez. Fine. Don’t cry to me if you get lost out here.”

I rolled my eyes. “How could I possibly get lost on this trail?”

He shrugged, then winked and turned to head back the way he came. “See ya.”

I only made it another few steps when I heard someone hiss, “Psst,” from nearby.

My heart lurched into my throat, and I whipped around to survey my surroundings. Not again. No one was visible, thanks to the darkened sky. I was a beat away from taking off in a sprint toward camp when a branch cracked loudly.

“Evie,” a deep voice called. “Are you okay?”

I snapped my head toward the sound, this time finding Foster heading toward me. He looked worried, like he cared. My insides flipped and flopped in ridiculous fashion. I had never before wanted to murder a boy and kiss him at the same time.

“I didn’t realize I was so close to the path, then I saw you.” He searched my face, his brow wrinkling. “You okay?”

No, I was not okay, but I wasn’t about to tell him that he’d just scared the shit out of me.

“I still haven’t found Carley,” he said. “She must be down by the creek where we’re supposed to meet everyone. I didn’t get that far before I heard you scream.”

“I’m sorry,” I said automatically, as I always did when someone around me was disappointed. At least that was what Patrick said. He said I needed to stop blaming myself for things that were out of my control. “I screamed because Gabe was being an asshole.”

Foster scrunched his nose, seemingly disgusted with my friend. “What’s new? We should stick together now.”

A sigh of relief relaxed me. Then I noticed how out of breath Foster was from his search. He’d removed his black hoodie, too, revealing a white shirt that must have gotten snagged on some branches because the arm was torn.

“Come on. We can get to the creek quicker this way.” He gave it a few moments before apparently realizing I wasn’t going anywhere. “Come on,” he said again, sounding angry. “I’m not leaving you out here alone again.”

This time, my feet jolted from their spot and took me into the woods until I was right by his side. I hated that I was ignoring the promise I’d made to my uncle in order to follow a boy into the deep, dark marsh, but what else was I supposed to do?

“You’re such a jerk,” I said once my heartbeat began to steady.

Foster shrugged. “You don’t even know me, Evie girl.”

Something about the way he used Uncle Patrick’s nickname for me warmed my chest. But Foster was right. I knew nothing about him or Carley other than that they were visiting the area with their family from Murphy, North Carolina.

We reached a clearing that opened to the water, but at first glance, Carley was nowhere to be found.

“Dammit,” Foster muttered, frustration coating his tone. “Where the hell is she?” He looked around, aiming his flashlight in several different directions, and called, “Carley, where are you?”

We both got quiet, waiting for her to respond.

I tried next, sticking close to Foster’s side. “Carley! Come out, come out, wherever you are.” I laughed lightly, trying to mask my nerves.

Still, no answer.

Foster sighed. “This isn’t funny, Carley. C’mon.”

I frowned, unease compounding in my chest. “Carley, answer us.”

Together, we continued hollering her name, getting nowhere.

Foster’s entire body looked as tense as his words. Then realization illuminated his features. “Isn’t there a clearing to the creek down that way?” He nodded in the direction we were walking then swiveled around, flashing a light on the waterfront. “Yes, this way.” Excitement coated his tone now. He took off running. “Come on!” he shouted back to me.

This time, I didn’t need him to beg me to follow. As I ran to catch him, I wanted to comfort him. To tell him Carley could handle herself. She was a tough girl. Besides, the woods were full of our fellow campers, and she would surely be with some of them. But before I could say any of that, a violent, horrific scream ripped through the night.

Gabe again. That was my first thought, figuring he was getting some sick pleasure in terrifying girls in the woods at night.Still, Foster and I stopped dead in our tracks. We listened closely, and I was sure I would hear someone berating Gabe for his antics, but that never came. In fact, the woods were too quiet.

The fright in my chest was no match for what I saw in Foster’s reaction. All color left his face as his eyes flared wide, and the way he took off into a sprint could have rivaled an Olympic athlete.

I had no choice but to follow him—follow Carley’s scream. Because while I had only known the Pruitts for the week, I realized that voice belonged to my new friend. Foster recognized it, too, and by the look on his face, he was about to pummel Gabe one hundred times harder than I already had.

When Foster slowed, his head swiveling left then right like he was lost, I said, “That way.” I pointed. “It came from near the water.”

Foster’s head snapped to me, his eyes narrowed into a glare I knew came directly from stress. “How do you know?”

I couldn’t explain it—I just knew. And we had no time for a leisurely chat. So I darted past him, toward the phantom echoes of Carley’s scream, running faster than the wind. Weeds cut across my legs, branches whipped against my cheeks, and marsh water soaked the lower half of my body, but I didn’t care. I didn’t stop until we entered the clearing that led to the lake.

That was when I saw it—a jar with a metal lid, lying on the ground, a dozen fireflies escaping from where the glass was cracked.

And then I saw her.

Carley Pruitt, my new friend.

Unmoving at the water’s edge.

Wearing Foster’s black sweatshirt.

Blood soaking the back of her head.