Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Then I bolt for the door before either of them can think to stop me.
I practically take a diving header into the passenger seat of Jazmine’s white hatchback, which she reads as her cue to gun it down the driveway.
“You rob the place on your way out?” she asks with a grin.
“No, but I nearly got hijacked into family bonding time.”
“In that case, you’re welcome.”
I’ve never gotten undressed in a car going sixty miles an hour before, but I manage to change clothes with only a few bruises from knocking my elbows into everything. It’s getting colder outside, so I opted for a pair of skinny jeans and a tight sweater. Jaz, meanwhile, chose to wear a short dress. It’s black and made of ribbed sweater material. The top has long sleeves, but the bottom half barely covers her upper thighs.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” I inform her while doing my makeup in the visor’s mirror.
“Sometimes you have to suffer in the pursuit of hotness,” she says airily, driving the nearly pitch-black country road that circles the lake toward the Ballard campus.
“You do look hot,” I concede, snapping my compact shut and reaching for my lip gloss.
I slather some on and hesitate before speaking again, then decide it’s better to give her a heads-up than possibly blindside her.
“Hey, just so you know… I haven’t been back to this lake since the accident,” I confess. “I’ve been on campus. Like, inside the school itself. But not out here.”
“Oh shit. I had no idea. Do you want to turn back?”
“No, it’s fine.”
I slide the elastic out of my ponytail and pull it around my wrist, then finger-comb my hair and let it fall loose past my shoulders. I haven’t cut it since the summer, so it’s longer than I usually wear it.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I just wanted you to know in case I freaked out or something. But honestly, I think I’m okay. Look—” I stick out my palms. “Rock steady.”
She scrutinizes me for a moment as if gauging my truthfulness. “Okay. But if you need to leave, tell me. I’ll get you out of there, no questions asked.”
Her sincerity touches something inside me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a female friend I feel will actually have my back.
CHAPTER 28
CASEY
A FEW DOZEN CARS ARE PARKED ALONG THE NARROW DIRT ROAD leading to the lake. We pull up on the shoulder overgrown with tall weeds that bend into a green rug when I push open the passenger door.
“We’re not going to the boathouse?” I say, unable to mask the relief in my voice.
“No, this is where my brother said to go,” she answers, showing me her phone. “See? He dropped a pin.”
Sure enough, the location marked on the map is on the southern edge of the lake. The boathouse is east and situated directly on campus. I think this part of the lake might be public property, in fact. Which makes me wonder if the Ballard party crowd had to relocate because the boathouse and surrounding area started being monitored more carefully after my accident.
Jaz reaches into the back seat and grabs a battery-powered lantern to light our way toward the sound of music. Through the trees, I glimpse tiny moving pinpricks of light, like fireflies in the blackness. Eventually the warm orange glow of a bonfire comes into view. The smell of smoke is thick and immediately imbeds into my hair and clothes until even my mouth tastes like flames.
When we step through the trees and I spot the dark stretch of water, I brace myself. Waiting. I thought being here might trigger something in me. Flashbacks or a panic attack. But nothing happens.
The relief is immense. Enough that I feel myself smiling and awkwardly bite my lip to conceal my excitement when we stroll up on the party. Music echoes through the trees and carries out over the expansive lake toward the small lights of faraway houses. Shadows dance all around us, figures cast in eerie fragments around the bonfire.
“Let’s get a drink.” Jaz nudges me toward a group of people standing around a keg.
My feet dig into the dirt, rooted to the spot for a moment. Getting here was one thing. Talking to people, being seen—that’s another. There are ghosts everywhere. Faces from a life not so long ago and yet distant enough.
Jaz wasn’t there the first time I returned to Ballard after the accident and those once-friendly faces had turned sour. How lonely it was feeling every room hush when I entered. The Living Dead Girl. How humiliating it was to hear the rumors start to swirl all around me, passed around by people I considered friends.
“You need me to carry you?” she jokes.
I let out a breath. “Nothing a few drinks can’t fix, right?”
“That’s the spirit.”