19. Nineteen #2
Behind my ribs, beneath a tattoo I’d nearly covered up a hundred times over in the last few years, the sleeping muscle in my chest pounded on slow beat.
The first rumble in an engine attempting to turn over.
In that space between seconds, while my brain played catch-up, he’d started to walk away again, no longer giving a fuck about our game.
I didn’t either, for that matter, still, thanks to my height, one long stride was all it took to fall in step beside him.
“You know most of those parents are full of shit, right? They’re just faking it for today. Tomorrow, they’ll go right back to not giving a fuck.”
We kept walking, and he nodded, “I know. But at least they care enough to pretend.”
What a sucker punch that statement was. Neither of our parents had ever even bothered with pretending.
Like it would somehow make up for our shitty parents, I tried to shove the t-shirt I still held, back into Cole’s hand.
He latched onto it, but I didn’t, couldn’t, let go. So, the two of us stood there like idiots, clinging to that damp piece of cotton and staring at each other. Until he squeezed his eyes closed and dropped it.
I looked down at the shirt, still in my hand, and blinked back the rain drops, and maybe the weight of loss, too, feeling my heart shudder and stop all over again. Then, he reached back out and grabbed it, “Come on. I want to talk about Mitchell, and I’d rather not be soaked through while we do.”
I pinched my own wet tank top, so sodden that most of my tattoos were visible through the fabric, “And me?”
He grumbled, “I’ll lend you some clothes.”
“Perfect. I’ve always wanted to cosplay as a jock.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he shrugged, but the dimple on his left cheek and the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. Cole Michaels almost laughed at my joke.
We started to move, headed in the direction of his cabin. For a second there, it had been like the old days, like all those times Cole had climbed across our cabin rafters only to drop himself beside me on my top bunk. Now, both of us were too awkward, too unsure, to speak.
Still, it was nice. It was nice not to fight or hate each other. It was even nicer to remember, to feel like we were something more than two people who used to be friends.
It’s funny how our senses adapt or often don’t.
I’d gone from trusting Cole completely, from seeing the very best in him, to being blind to all but his worst qualities.
Now, I couldn’t be sure where we stood, other than floating uncomfortably in the in-between, but I could feel that old trust, tugging at me like Cole’s strong fists were wrapped around it, pulling taut our tenuous silence.
And like I said, senses adapt. Out here, the sounds of rain, or rustling leaves, of laughter and shouts were all expected.
What wasn’t was the shrill angry ringing of a cell phone.
Back in West Barrett, or on campus at school, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Out here, with the notoriously shitty reception, the sound was so out of place, so jarring, that both Cole and I froze in place.
“What was that?” He asked, dropping his voice low. If I hadn’t been right beside him, I wouldn’t have heard it.
The ringing cut through the rain again, and this time, I was sure. “A cell phone.”
With no one else willing to bear the downpour, the path was empty.
We scanned across the treeline, and still, nothing.
Except the Hive. The only place out here for someone to hide from the rain, and without a fire burning inside, it was unlikely some kids and their parents were using it as shelter.
I pointed, and even though we were perfectly entitled to be out here, to use the Hive, we crept towards its entrance.
My sandals caught and slipped a bit in the mud and streams now running down the path, so it took a minute to get to the entrance. Cole wasn’t much faster.
On either side of the tent flaps, Cole and I knelt.
The mud that splattered on my long shorts, just another layer of grime on top of the rain.
With a finger on his lips, Cole signaled me to stay quiet.
I rolled my eyes. As if I was going to start shouting now.
He frowned but accepted that I’d got the message.
He inched his hands forward, and with softer motions than I would have anticipated from Cole, he rolled the canvas tent fabric back on itself, revealing just enough of the dark interior for us to see feet pacing back and forth across the small space.
Because it’s a teepee, there’s no power in the Hive, hence the purpose of the fire pit at its centre.
Right now, though, it was pitch black. In place of the ringing, there was just a voice.
One neither of us needed to see a face to recognize.
Our boss. The Camp Director. The guy who had been missing-in-action at every major camp event this summer.
We worked in the same building, and I barely even saw the man outside of the weekly senior staff check-ins.
With it being Parents Day, he should have been in the dining hall, checking in with families, so why was he out here, alone, in the middle of a storm?
I strained my ears to hear anything over the rain.
“McKnight’s agreed.”
Silence.
“Not that he had much of a choice.”
More silence. Cole looked across to me, his brows knitted together. I mouthed, “He’s on the phone,” and his expression cleared as understanding dawned. Immediately, we both returned to listening.
“Because, Daniel, it has to be less dramatic this time around. Less noticeable.”
Another pause as whoever Jack was speaking to obviously had a lot to say.
“Soon.” Another pause and a huff of frustration, “Soon, Daniel. None of us can afford another Holly.”
That name. From his lips. Holly. The only camper to ever give me a nickname, Brennon with the blue hair. She was supposed to have been safe, at home with her family. Jack’s words made it sound like she was anything but.
Memories of the girl, her shy smiles and the way she’d ruffled my hair and let me ruffle her’s right back were my only good memories of last summer not tainted by loss.
The thought that Xavi, and by extension Birdie, had been right about Jack all along sent my stomach plummeting.
Followed by blinding, white-hot rage that something had happened to that little kid, and I’d ignored it, catapulted me to my feet.
My hand was on the canvas before I knew it, and with one quick jerk of my long arm, I ripped back the tent’s opening so I could look Jack Walker in the eye while I demanded the truth.
At the edge of my vision, I saw Cole reach for me. A futile attempt to prevent me from wading into this mess. But, just like the day he’d kicked my ass last summer, I was again unable to pull myself back from reacting.
The question, “What the fuck?” burst out of my mouth.
“Brennon?”
Jack stepped back, deeper into the darkness of the Hive, but only for a second before he doubled down, “What the hell are you doing here?!”
He grunted, then his eyes darted sideways, as I felt Cole at my back. I’m taller, but his frame dominated.
“What the hell are you both doing here?! You should be with the parents!” His eyes darted to the side again, but this time, to the cell phone, its screen still illuminated in his left hand.
“No." I retorted, “You should be. But instead, you’re up here. What the fuck, Jack?”
“I’m your boss. You can’t speak to me like that.” His already ruddy cheeks, redder than usual. Maybe from the trapped air inside the Hive, or maybe from embarrassment.
“Who were you talking to?” I fired back again, ignoring the way Cole tapped my back. A silent urge for caution, that I couldn’t be fucked with. “Who’s Daniel, Jack?”
He blanched but didn’t offer me any answers.
“What happened to Holly?!” I asked, my voice morphing from angry to full blown yelling, a rarity for me. “What can’t you afford to repeat?”
I wouldn’t be shrugged off or ignored.
“What did you do to that girl?!” I screamed in his face.
Jack drew back, but only for a second.
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything!”
“Bullshit! Who the fuck is Daniel?!”
He sucked his top teeth, then sniveled, “Nobody. If you’re smart. He’s nobody. That’s a name you should never say again if you know what’s good for you Brennon Grace.”
“Are you fucking threatening me?!”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a fact. Now run along, back to your computer screen. That’s about all your good for.”
I leapt toward him, grabbing his collar and pulling his disgusting face toward me, “At least I’m still good for something. Unlike you, you lazy cunt.”
Before I got a chance to smash that bastard’s face in, hands at my back, ripped me away.
“Get out of here Bren. Just go!” Cole whispered into my ear, before shoving me backwards and out of the Hive.
The rain was slowing, and outside of the thick walls of the tent, my breathing seemed easier, my thoughts clearer.
Cole was right, I needed to go. I couldn’t stay here.
Not without punching Jack in the face, and that would cost me my job.
And any shot at knowing what happened to Holly.
I’d be gone before getting a chance to talk to Xav or Birdie.
Without getting a chance to thank Cole. So, I did as he ordered.
I ran. I ran without question, while he held our boss back.
Splashes of mud and gravel hit my shins with each step, while behind me, I heard the same guy who’d used my face as a punching bag last summer fight to save my ass.