We don’t get to the cabin until after dark. West promised my parents he’d keep me safe, and they said it was okay if I stayed as long as I was with West the whole time, but they’re almost certainly just out of fight. Watching my childhood best friend be buried wasn’t easy on them either.
Draped over the living room furniture, everyone drinks and continues the ever-growing conversation about Miles. Even West has a beer. Despite being on a lower dose, I still can’t drink while weaning off my meds. Besides, putting myself in any state of mind that might trigger me to see things is far from ideal. I’m already shaking on the couch and trying not to glance into the dark forest beyond the windows.
The truth is, I’ll probably never have a “normal” life. But at least I still have a life.
“Do you remember that weird thing he used to do when we drove?” West asks Faye as he peels at the label of his bottle. “Every time Dad would take us out of town, Miles would read off every goddamn sign we passed, even if it was just for the speed limit.”
“Trust me, I remember,” Faye says. “It was annoying as fuck, which was one of the only things you and I ever agreed on. And we’d get pissed off when Dad would get us those big bags of hard candies, and Miles would leave all the gross banana ones.”
West lets out a deep, throaty, genuine chuckle, but his smile fades moments later. “Yeah. What a kid.”
Faye sits cross-legged on the couch and faces Keely on the other side. “Hey, can I ask you something? Why’d your dad interview Miles about the guy outside your house?”
“No idea,” Keely says. “But I never thought it was Miles. No way.”
“Yeah, he said he had no real alibi or whatever, like none of us actually saw him. But I know where he was that night. He had this place in the forest behind our house that he always went to think. Just some random spot of grass where he liked to watch the stars.”
My heart falls. A spot in the middle of the woods—that could have been where he took me for the picnic. More guilt covers me. I sink into the tartan fabric of the couch. The memories of that day are even more horrible now that Miles is gone. West glances at me but says nothing.
“He liked to go there when he was upset, and I remember he was pretty torn up about—” Faye stops herself and glares at us. “You know what. Anyway, this has been the worst day of my life, second only to finding out Miles was dead in the first place. I think I’m going to pass out. Keely, share a bed with me?”
“Yeah, of course.”
They stand, followed by Shawn.
“Guys, wait, what about me?” Shawn says.
“What about you?” Keely scowls.
“I dunno . . .” Shivering, Shawn rubs his arms and glances out the windows. “It’s kind of freaky out here. I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“Really?” Faye scoffs. “You big baby. Fine, you can sleep on the floor next to us.”
“Yes, on the floor,” Keely says.
“Deal.” Shawn chases after them to their room, leaving West and me alone on the couch.
Despite being together all day, we haven’t spoken much. A tense awkwardness hangs between us—not only because we’re not touching, but because we now have to figure out our sleeping arrangements. Sleeping in West’s arms would be a dream come true, but I wish it was under different circumstances. I can tell by the expression on his face that he sees the way we both hurt Miles when he looks at me.
He doesn’t speak, so I say, “If you want . . . maybe we can just sleep in separate rooms? Since Shawn is with Faye and Keely . . .”
West’s pained eyes meet mine. He changed out of his funeral clothes into plaid pajama bottoms and a black shirt, while I’m in the volleyball sweats I packed. I never thought our first night together would be like this.
“Do you want that?” he asks, his voice gruff. I shake my head, and he looks away. “Neither do I.”
We fall quiet, but I can’t stop thinking about what Miles tried to tell me. Though I’m slowly putting the puzzle pieces together, I can’t trust my own mind—but I do trust West.
“I need to tell you something,” I say quietly. West’s jaw tightens. “Miles was trying to tell me something the day of the barbeque, before you showed up, but I wouldn’t listen to him. Then, before the crash, I accused him of being the guy outside Keely’s window, and he tried to tell me something else.”
“What was it?”
“That’s the thing: I don’t know, but it was about the guy outside Keely’s house. I was so paranoid about him that I didn’t even try to listen. But Miles knew something, West. One of the last things I heard him say was ‘I know you guys lied.’ And I remember Dean was really pissed off.”
“But the van crashed before Miles could finish,” West says, and I nod. “Dean could’ve crashed on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
“Jesus Christ . . . we need to tell the cops.”
“The last time I accused someone of something, Miles—”
“Don’t think about that. If it wasn’t my brother outside Keely’s house, it was someone else, which means people are still in danger. If Dean crashed on purpose just to shut Miles up, he must have something to hide.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Okay. There’s nothing we can do tonight.” West stands up. “So let’s just get some sleep.” He goes around to every window and door and double checks to make sure everything’s locked. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
West turns off the lights. With bated breath, I follow him to the same room I slept in the last time I was here. West closes the door, and the darkness engulfs us. I’m thankful the blinds are pulled shut, because I don’t want to look into the forest and imagine myself running through those same trees.
Once West is under the covers, I crawl in after him. As soon as the heat of the blanket covers me, he pulls me to him, wrapping me in the warmth of his body. West buries his face in my hair and breathes in deep.
“Thank you for being with me today,” he says.
“Of course . . . I love you, West.”
“I love you too.”
We’re quiet after that, and it isn’t long before West’s breathing becomes slow and shallow, and his grip on me relaxes.
Once again, I can’t sleep. Images of Miles pleading with me to listen to him haunt my mind. With everything going on, I haven’t even used the bathroom in hours, so I slip out of bed.
“Where you going?” West asks groggily.
“Bathroom.” I kiss his cheek. “Be right back.”
West grumbles and curls under the blankets, instantly asleep again. My heart inflates, but I head into the empty living room, trying not to look at Brian’s taxidermy. But as I’m making my way across the hardwood floor, something creaks behind me. I freeze.
Not this again.
Fear floods me, the crippling paranoia taking over, but I’m sick of being ruled by these emotions. West double checked that the doors and windows were locked—there’s no way anyone could get in here. I run to the bathroom, and once I’m done, I go back out and hurry toward our room.
Something moves by Keely’s door.
I stop in my tracks. The floorboard creaks again.
“Keely?” I whisper. “Is that you?”
Silence.
Clenching my eyes shut, I snap the elastic band against my wrist.
You’re dreaming again. Wake up.
When I open my eyes, I find myself staring into the mirror above the fireplace. The cabin is inverted through it, and in the corner is a face.
I try to scream, but a hand covers my mouth and nose until I can’t breathe. Kicking and flailing, I spot the man’s obscured reflection in the mirror before my body weakens and I can’t see anymore.
My vision fades in and out. The roof of a car, the soft fabric of a seat beneath me. The calm grumble of a vehicle moving. Then I’m surrounded by trees, and the night sky seeps through the leaves above my head. Someone carries me, but I can’t see his face. I try to say stop, but the words don’t come out. Everything is heavy.
He’s taking me somewhere, but I’m too weak to fight him. I squirm in his arms, and he drops me to the ground. I feel nothing but the weight of gravity and the damp dirt on my hands, but through my disorientation, a memory leaks through the cracks.
That time Keely went missing in the forest, West caught her trail.
With weighted limbs, I roll the elastic off my wrist and drop it in the dirt, just as the person scoops me into his arms again.
I’m too powerless to do anything. I catch one last glimpse of the elastic, strewn among the leaves, before I slip into the black again.