Leah practically died when I told her what had happened.
“I knew it!” she squealed, throwing her arms wide and flopping back onto my bed, her hair blazing black and red against my bright white comforter. “Just say it, I’m always right. You like him.”
I looked up at her from my seat on the floor, where I was painting my toenails an electric shade of green. “I don’t like him. I barely even know him.”
She rolled to face me and held out her hand. “Please. You let him hold you. While you were crying. You like him.”
I wished that I had left that part out. “Can we go back to the Ouija board, please?” I couldn’t stop thinking about the guide moving over the letters. Or the message carved into the tree in the ruins.
She waved her hand. “In a minute. We need to talk more about this embrace.” She waggled her eyebrows, then glanced at the bottle of nail polish in my hand. She wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure about that color?”
“I don’t know.” I looked down at my toes, wiggled them, and frowned. I’d picked out the polish because it had looked bright and cheerful, but now that it was on, it did look a bit toxic. I sighed and reached for the remover and cotton balls. “It was kind of nice.”
“You know what’s not nice, besides that shade of green?” I knew she didn’t really want me to answer, so I waited until she continued. “You, withholding information from me.”
“We’re just friends.”
“With benefits, am I right?”
I snorted and threw a cotton ball at her.
Leah slid off the bed and settled cross-legged on the rug in front of me. She picked up my shoebox full of nail polish and rooted through it, settling on a bottle of lavender almost the same exact color of my bedroom walls.
“Hey, Leah?”
She looked up at me, brow furrowed. “What’s up, buttercup?”
I chewed on my lip, unsure of how to approach the other subject that had been bothering me for days: Brit D’Autremont. “Have you been hanging out with Brit a lot? I mean, since she’s been working with you?”
She swiped the polish on my newly paint-free toes. “Yeah, I guess,” she said. “She’s been working a lot. But she’s pretty cool, for a freshman.”
Jealousy dug thorns around my chest, and I fought to keep it from my voice. “I didn’t even know you needed help at the cafe.”
She froze, the brush poised over my big toe. “Wait, are you mad?”
“Not mad. Just… I don’t know. I could have worked with you. You didn’t even ask.” I hated how small my voice sounded.
Leah sighed. “Millie, how was I supposed to know you wanted it? You’ve been kind of closed off lately.” She must have caught the look on my face, because she added quickly, “Which is totally understandable. Given everything. I didn’t think to ask because I didn’t want to put another burden on you.”
“So you’re not replacing me?”
She threw back her head and laughed. “With Brit? Are you kidding me?” She finished up my other foot and capped the bottle. “You’re still BFF numero uno. And as your BFF numero uno, I don’t think we’re done with our previous conversation regarding a certain new hottie next door. I think you should make a move. You haven’t dated anyone since the asshole who shall not be named, and Charlie’s really cute.”
While I appreciated the topic shift, I had to groan. Ben was cute too, and in the end, he’d broken my heart. After the past year, I wasn’t sure that I had enough of a heart left for anyone else to break. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, okay?”
“It’s the summer. Our last one before we graduate and leave this craphole town. Live a little.” She sat back on her heels and stared up at me. “Sometimes you just have to say yes to life, you know? Before it’s too late.”
I let my head fall back against my desk chair and fought down the flutters that appeared in my middle. “I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am. You should call him and invite him over.”
“I’m not allowed to have boys over when my mom isn’t home.”
She pouted at me.
“Leah.”
“Your mom likes him. And you were allowed over to his house unsupervised.”
I raised my eyebrows.
She sighed. “Okay. Fine. At least invite him to my party?”
“The party I’m not going to?” We’d been arguing about this for weeks. Leah’s older sister Taylor was home from college for the summer and throwing a party after the Anniversary Festival.
The last time I’d gone to a party, Mark had ended up dead. My fingers drifted to the scar on the back of my arm, but if Leah noticed, she didn’t comment on it.
“Come on, Millie. You can’t stay home.” She pouted at me.
“I can. I’m not going. Everyone from school will be there. You’ll have more fun without me.”
“False. You’re my best friend, and there’s no way I can have a good time without you.” She clasped her fingers under her chin and rose to her knees. “Please?”
The knock on the door saved me from answering her. For a heartbeat, we stared at each other, neither of us moving. After another knock, I climbed to my feet, careful of my wet polish. Leah was faster, and by the time I was in the hall, she was already leaning against the half-open door, her head tilted to the side. “New Kid,” she drawled. “What a surprise.”
I froze. New Kid could only mean one person, and I wasn’t exactly sure what that person was doing here.
Charlie’s voice drifted down the hallway. “Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Amelia. Is she home?”
“She might be. Hold on.” Leah looked at me from over her shoulder. “Are you home?”
I was going to kill her, no doubt about it. I hurried to the door, nearly slamming into Leah. I bumped her out of the way with my hip. “Hey,” I said.
His eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter. “Hi,” he said. “Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all,” Leah said before I could answer him. “I was just telling Millie that she should invite you to my party. You aren’t busy the night of the festival, are you?”
My mouth fell open, and all I could do was stare at her. Once she closed the door, I was going to murder her.
But Charlie leaned forward, like he was actually considering it. He wasn’t considering it, was he? “I don’t exactly know what this festival thing is, but I do know that my social calendar is pretty much clear all summer.”
I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat.
He slid his gaze to me. “Are you okay?”
I was definitely not okay. I was going to melt into a puddle of embarrassment right here on the porch. “Fine,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
Leah stomped down on my foot, hard. I winced.
Charlie’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. Just stopping by to see if you were okay. After yesterday. Which it looks like you are, so I guess I’ll just get going.” He took a half-step backwards, like he didn’t really want to go.
I sighed. Being bitchy because Leah was being, well, Leah, wasn’t going to help if I wanted Charlie to be my friend. “Wait,” I called after him.
He stopped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“We were going to go swimming in a little while. Why don’t you come with us?”
***
Leah drove like she did everything else: manically. I was secretly relieved that she had relegated Charlie and me to the backseat; she’d packed the passenger seat full of “necessities”—towels and sunscreen and a backpack full of snacks. We zoomed around the twisting mountain roads. Charlie’s big hand rested on the seat between us, and I fought the urge to take it in my own. Instead, I let my hand fall next to his, our fingers barely brushing. After a minute, he reached over, wrapping his hand around mine. I smiled and rested my head against the glass.
Leah slammed to a stop on the shoulder and cut the engine. Once I made sure I’d arrived in one piece, I pulled my hand from underneath Charlie’s and stepped out into the sunshine.
The river was only a few minutes’ walk from the car. I picked my way downhill, sticking to the narrow path that wound between the trees and over wide, flat rocks until we reached the river bank and the Standing Stone came into sight.
Charlie let out a long, low whistle. “What is that?” he asked.
“The Standing Stone,” Leah said, walking up to it and laying her hand flat against the smooth blue-gray surface. It dwarfed her—it was even taller than most of the houses in Asylum—and cast a long, rectangular shadow out over the water.
The Standing Stone stood right in front of a slow, deep pool in the river, perfect for swimming. For whatever reason, this spot was always deserted in favor of the broad, sandy beach along the town’s edge; Mark was the only reason that Leah and I knew that this place even existed.
“It’s always been here, as far as we know,” I added. Every time we came here, it took my breath away. How could something this magnificent, something so much larger than life, exist in nature? I was always half-afraid that I’d come back here one day and it’d be gone, just a figment of my imagination. But there it was, unmoving, unchanging, twenty-five feet of perfect Susquehanna Bluestone among the green of the forest and the gentle shhh of the river twisting around its base.
Charlie mimicked Leah and laid his hands flat against the rock. His blue eyes fluttered shut, and a strange expression, something almost like longing, flickered across his face. The rock shimmered under his touch, so much that it looked like his fingertips sank into the stone. Impossible.
I shut my eyes, and when I opened them again, the rock was solid and Charlie’s hands were at his sides.
I must have imagined it.
“Are we just going to stand here, or are we going to swim?” Leah asked. She had already dropped her dress to the ground, revealing a tiny black bikini. A red gem winked from her navel as she stretched her arms over her head. “It’s hot as balls out here.”
I scrunched up my face. “You really have a way with words.”
Leah stuck her tongue out at me and splashed into the water, leaving me on the shore, alone with Charlie.
He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it onto his backpack in that utterly unselfconscious way boys have. His glasses were next, then his shoes, and I had to stop myself from staring at him: he was thin, but not scrawny. His arms were muscled and freckled, and he had a dusting of dark hair across his chest, and this line of dark hair leading down from his belly button that made me think of things I probably shouldn’t be thinking of, and, well…
Charlie was hot.
There.
I said it.
He was totally hot.
I was suddenly too aware of him, and I felt embarrassed stripping down to my bathing suit. I was worried about what he would think, especially with Leah here for him to compare me to. She was lean everywhere I was soft, and while I wasn’t totally uncomfortable in my own skin, I wasn’t totally comfortable like she was, either. I was just… I was just me. I had never really cared before what other people thought of me, but now…
I wanted him to think I was pretty.
He must have noticed me staring at him, because his face was bright red, and he cleared his throat. “Are you coming in?”
I blushed and set my things down. “Yeah,” I said. “Hold on.”
I undressed quickly, first making sure the ties on my bathing suit top hadn’t come undone. I set the locket down on top of my dress and stood. I crossed my left arm over my chest and tried to cover my scar with my hand. It was thick and red and angry. Ugly. But if Charlie noticed it—and I was sure he did—he didn’t comment on it.
I moved carefully over the moss-covered rocks until I reached the water’s edge. I dipped my toe into the water rushing by and winced as the current flowed over my skin.
It was freezing.
Leah splashed at us, sending a glittering cascade of water our way. “You’ll get used to it!”
I tried again and shook my head. “Maybe I’ll just sit out—” My words dissolved into a shriek as strong arms scooped me up; before I could process what was happening, Charlie had thrown me over his shoulder. I flailed around, terrified that he was going to drop me, but his arms wrapped firmly behind my knees.
“Put me down!” I beat against his back. “Charlie!”
He was laughing too hard to listen to me. He waded into the river and gasped as the cold water hit his knees, his waist, and then the water hit me, and I shrieked again.
“Toss her in!” Leah crowed, splashing again.
“Don’t you dare!”
He wouldn’t.
Charlie spun us in a circle, and I clung to him. “Charlie, don’t you—”
He dunked under the water, taking me with him, and the icy cold cut into me like a knife. I was too surprised to hold my breath; the water rushed into my nose and mouth, burning a frigid path into my lungs. Below the surface, he released me, and I came up, sputtering and coughing, my lungs burning. The river was too deep for me to stand here, and he paddled just out of reach.
I pushed my hair out of my eyes and lunged at him, my legs scissoring. “You’ll pay for that,” I growled.
He darted backwards with a splash. His long arms pulled him quickly away from me. “You’ll have to catch me, first.”
“Bold words,” Leah said from where she treaded water a few feet away. “Should I tell him, Millie, or shall you?”
“Tell me what?” Charlie squinted at me, his head tilted.
She snorted and let her limbs sprawl out in the water. “I don’t know…”
I knew what she was going to say. While she distracted Charlie, I slipped under the water and swam towards him as fast as I could. My hands closed around his ankle, and I tugged right as he kicked, pulling him under.
We broke the surface at the same time; this time, I was the one grinning. Leah dissolved into giggles, and I paddled backwards, out of Charlie’s reach.
He coughed. “You’re an all-state swimmer?”
“Another one of my secrets,” I teased. I treaded water, even as he drifted closer to me.
“I like him,” Leah announced. “Keep him.”
Charlie arched an eyebrow. His fingers closed on my arm, and he pulled me to him. Suddenly, we were nose-to-nose, our bodies pressed together under the water. This was different from yesterday on his porch. Then, he had been comforting. Solid. Steady. Now, his touch raised shivers chased by goose bumps along my skin. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he blinked his dark blue eyes at me. “Keep me?”
Leah stilled, watching us. I didn’t know what to say—I didn’t know if he was serious, even though he suddenly looked serious. I didn’t know what I should say, so I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him underwater again.
Leah’s cackle echoed over the water, and I swam away, out of his reach. I flipped on my back and paddled just enough to keep myself afloat, allowing the gentle current to carry me downstream. I floated past the Standing Stone, past the wide, flat rocks where we’d left our belongings, out to where the river was wide and shallow. My legs bumped against the rocky bottom, and I climbed to my feet, intent on wading into deeper water and swimming back upstream to where Leah and Charlie splashed each other along the shore.
A gust of wind whipped my sodden hair over my eyes and pushed a heavy gray cloud over the sun. A chill worked down my spine, and I shivered, unable to warm up as the frigid river rushed around my knees. Without the sun, it was too cold to even think about getting back into the water. So I turned toward the shore, eager to reach my bag and pull out my towel.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimmer of light coming from the weeds along the bank. I stopped, unsure of what I’d just seen. I squinted at the shore, but didn’t see it again, so I shook my head and kept walking. It was probably trash, nothing more. Still, I allowed myself one more glance, just in case.
Nothing.
The ground beneath my feet switched from rock to mud, and I slipped. I shot my hands forward and grabbed at the nearest tree roots, trying to steady myself. I used the roots to pull myself up out of the water, and as I rolled onto the bank, I saw another glimmer—this one the unmistakable glint of light on metal—coming from the murky inlet on my left.
I stood, legs shaking, and stepped closer.
Blood roared in my ears, drowning out the river, as I realized what I was seeing.
A silver bracelet, wrapped around a slim white hand, fingers tipped with chipped pink polish. A hand belonging to a small red-haired girl tangled in the weeds along the bank, her blue eyes open and staring straight into forever.
My knees buckled, and my stomach lurched. “Oh God,” I whispered. I jumped back into the river and waded over to her. Every step sent water rippling towards her in a wave that rocked her gently, like she was asleep in a cradle of weeds.
I had to get her out of the water. Perform CPR. Call 911. I had to…
And then I touched her outstretched hand, felt her ice-cold skin.
And I realized that Brit D’Autremont was very, very dead.