“The Walking Dead.”
“I think I stopped around season three thousand.”
Laughing, he tilts his head back. “It’s not that bad.”
“I know, but you kill Glenn, you’re dead to me.”
“Never get attached to a character in The Walking Dead or Game of Thrones, Esme.”
“Tyrion lived. I’m fine with Thrones. You know you can tour the city where King’s Landing was filmed?”
“Croatia, right? We should go.”
“Bit presumptuous to think I’ll want to vacation with you, isn’t it?”
He laughs again. “Who wouldn’t want a trip to Croatia?”
I’m not going anywhere with Olly until I know he’s not torturing me.
“Do you think Rebekah is okay?” I ask.
“No idea. Why?”
“I don’t know, she seems weird,” I say, and watch his reaction.
He shrugs one shoulder casually. “She’s scared. No offense to her, but she seems like the type of person who freaks at everything.”
“Don’t you think there’s a very good reason for us to be scared?”
If he isn’t scared, why not?
“I do. Why do you think something is wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. She seems…distant. I guess I don’t know how she handles stressful situations. I forget we’ve only known each other a matter of weeks.”
“Camps have that effect on you.”
Is he speaking from experience as a camper or as a CIT? He couldn’t have been here before, though. Andy, Cora and Mary are the returnees.
There is no way Olly could have been here before now; he’s the same age as me. Unless he’s lying and has a fake ID that says he’s a year younger.
No, not Olly.
We reach the others. I have to get Kayla to sneak into the guys’ cabin.
“Esme, want to go watch something? I brought my iPad and we have a couple hours until we have to be in the food hall for dinner,” Olly says.
Result. I can be in his room without sneaking in.
Ignoring Kayla, Rebekah and Tia, who are waggling their eyebrows, I reply, “Sounds good. If we start a new series, we both have to swear not to watch an episode alone. No skipping ahead.”
He holds his hands up. “I swear.”
I nod. Today I snoop through his things. Tomorrow I go back to Rebekah’s room and find her phone.
I follow Olly into his cabin. It smells like feet covered up with pine air freshener. The bedding is pale blue; the girls’ is cream.
He stands outside the door to his room and lets me enter first. I clench my fists as my palms sweat. Nothing is going to happen in here, so I don’t know why my nerves are racing.
What if Lillian is someone he cares about and this thing between us is him trying to get me to trust him? He could shut that bedroom door and strangle me. Okay, obviously not. I need to start getting some decent sleep at night.
That does seem a little excessive over some burns. I really don’t think Lillian died, and although my mistake was a big one, I was scared, and just a kid.
I want to believe that no one would kill over that.
Olly might be innocent.
“Okay, pull up Netflix,” he says. “Mine is the bottom bunk. Jake shotgunned the top.”
I turn to him and grin. “I did too.”
He chuckles. “I believe it.”
I grab the iPad sitting on his bed and open Netflix. “What do you want to watch?” I ask. “Ooh, what about The Circle?”
He shrugs. “Sure. Whatever.”
“You have no opinion on this?”
“It doesn’t matter what we watch, Esme.”
I’d swoon if I weren’t worried that he’s been leaving creepy notes and chasing me through the woods.
But Olly couldn’t have been the chaser either time. He was with me. There can’t be three people involved, surely? Or more?
I shake my head and swallow bile at the thought of a whole group. I press Play, trying to ignore where my mind is taking me. The suspicious side of me really sucks right now. It’s like it overrides logic and all I’m left with is a big pool of suspects who don’t quite fit into the mold.
Olly sits beside me. We lean against the wall and I rest the iPad on my legs.
“Wait,” I say, pressing Pause. “Do you think you could grab us some water before we start? I dehydrate in seconds here.”
I don’t think I’ve heard Olly mention the heat once.
Could my newest Netflix buddy be used to this climate?
He smirks. “Fine, but no snooping through my stuff. A guy’s underwear drawer is private.”
Damn it.
“I wasn’t going to….”
“I’m kidding, Esme!”
My throat goes dry.
His eyes linger for a second too long on mine, then he gets up.
33
Olly specifically told me not to snoop when he left.
Am I listening?
Nope.
The second I see him pass the window and head toward the food hall, I drop the iPad and slide off the bed. Olly isn’t a mattress or pillowcase kind of guy, so I go straight for the dresser drawers.
Biting my lip, I pull open the third drawer down. The top two are likely to be Jake’s since he took the top bunk.
Or that’s what Kayla and I have done anyway. Rebekah and Tia too.
The wood makes a scraping sound as I gently tug the drawer toward me. Wincing, I slow down. Why is it so loud? But I’m alone; no one will hear it. I dig one hand in and root around.
I’m a terrible person!
An iPad case, pack of gum, penknife, deodorant.
Come on, Olly, you must have something personal.
I root deeper and come in contact with a small leather square.
Bingo.
The black wallet is worn and curled at the edges like he’s had it a long time.
Okay, his license must be in here.
And that’s the exact moment the door creaks.
Olly’s rough voice asks, “What are you doing?”
I drop the wallet and close my eyes.
Shit.
Face up to it.
Standing, I turn to him. “O-Olly,” I say, my heart in my throat. “I was just…”
“Snooping,” he says. “Why?”
He leans against the doorframe, his expression blank. I don’t think he’s mad.
“I like you.” I sigh.
Not at all a lie. I do like him, and I want my doubts to just be in my head.
“I’m sorry, okay? I saw an opportunity to see your stuff. That was crappy of me. I don’t know why I did it.”
He steps into the room, his eyes sharp. “I don’t have anything to hide. No secret girlfriend’s pic in there.”
“That’s not why I was looking.” My cheeks flame. “Wouldn’t you be curious if we were in my room?”
“Is this what girls do to guys they like?”
“It’s what everyone does. When you like someone, you want to know everything. Sometimes you can tell more about a person by what they own than what they say.” I’m lying. I don’t enjoy snooping at all.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Esme. You don’t need to sneak around.”
I try to ignore the cold, sinking feeling in my stomach.
Well done, you’ve screwed this one up royally.
He takes another step and reaches out. I watch his hand curl around my wrist and unfold my arms.
“I just want to know you. The last guy I liked…it didn’t end well.”
“I’m not him.”
“No, you’re not. Can I have a do-over?”
He lets go of my wrist and pulls the draw
er open all the way. “Go for it. Tell me what you learn.”
“I don’t want to,” I tell him, and I mean it.
“Sure you do. I have nothing to hide. Snoop all you want. I’ll even leave the room if you’d rather do it alone.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be that girl. I trust you.”
I’m an idiot for thinking he’s involved because of a slip of the tongue. He’s been open with me and he’s not even angry at me for going through his stuff. He wouldn’t tell me to look if he had something to hide.
“Were you looking for something in particular?” he asks.
When is the ground going to swallow me? “No. You must think I’m crazy.”
And I might be, you know. Since all of this started, the threats and stalking, I haven’t felt very sane. I’m paranoid and jumping from one dumb theory to the next. It doesn’t take much to make me suspicious, despite there being a serious lack of evidence with Rebekah and Olly.
“I don’t think you’re crazy. A little sneaky maybe,” he says.
“I didn’t mean to be.”
That sounds so lame. I didn’t mean to be sneaky? I freaking planned it!
“Ask me anything,” he says. “Whatever you want to know.”
“What song can you listen to over and over?”
His lips curl with a smile. “ ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’ It’s timeless and brilliant.”
I touch my heart. “Hail Freddie. What’s your sick food?”
“My what?”
“The only thing you can stomach when you’re ill.”
“Oh. Dry toast, I guess.”
“Mine is plain pasta. What’s your favorite thing about your hometown?”
“That it’s called Springfield. I like The Simpsons.”
There’s a Springfield in Missouri. I know because my dad likes The Simpsons, too.
I nod. “My hometown has this little bistro called Dante’s, and they serve the best Philly cheesesteaks in the world.”
“How many calories are in those things?”
“About a whole week’s allowance, but it’s so worth it. Do you count calories?”
“Not religiously. Our old coach was big on living a healthy lifestyle. He liked to win.”
“Football, right?” I ask.
“I was the running back.”
“Did you want to be quarterback?”
“Never appealed. Besides, I was the fastest on the field. I could get that ball far.”
“Do you love it?”
“I do. Football is big at home.”
“Maybe I’ll watch you in the Super Bowl one day.”
“I’m not sure I’m that good.”
“I wish I was sporty. I used to run track for school, but now I just do it for fun.”
“I thought you had runner’s legs.” His eyes dip to my legs, then snap back up.
Smiling, I look away.
I don’t mention him checking me out as I pass him. “If you could have dinner with any actor, who would it be?”
“The questions keep coming, huh?” Olly teases. “Dead or alive?”
I shrug. “Either?”
“Robin Williams. He was brilliant.”
“Who is the person you can be one hundred percent yourself around? No hiding, no judgments? Mine is my nana.”
“My dad. We’re alike,” Olly replies.
“What was your favorite thing to do when you were younger?”
“Six Flags Fiesta. Yours?’ ”
“The zoo with my nana. We went a lot, even sponsored some of the animals. Do you think we’re in danger here?”
His attention drifts to his iPad. “I don’t know.”
I think we are, but I don’t say anything to him because he’s already clicking on Netflix.
So instead of pushing it, I watch The Circle with Olly until we have to go back to the food hall.
And I try to forget that I ever suspected him.
34
A slow two days later, I’m chewing my lip to the point of pain. No need for red lipstick when blood will do the trick.
The campers are asleep, and the day was pretty standard. Nothing out of the ordinary, unless you count one of the boys getting a Cheerio stuck up his nose.
Nothing out of the ordinary. That’s what’s making me sweat now. I’d prefer things to just happen. The wait for Lillian’s next move makes my stomach churn constantly.
Kayla, Rebekah, Tia, Olly and Jake are sitting on the dock, dangling their feet into the water.
I’m supposed to join them.
Instead I’m sitting on the porch of the food hall, just out of sight of my friends.
“Esme?” Mary says as she walks past.
“Hi.” I sit straighter.
She tilts her head. “Are you all right?”
“Fine. Just having a drink,” I say, holding my mug of hot chocolate up.
She nods.
I’m sure she’s about to leave—she should be in her bedroom with Catalina—but she sits next to me instead. “I thought you would be with your friends?”
Okay, she’s staying?
“Yeah, I’ll join them in a minute.”
“You haven’t had a falling-out, have you? Totally normal if you have, it happens from time to time when we’re all in such close quarters.”
“Nothing like that. I just needed a minute.”
She huffs like an exasperated teacher. “Anything the matter?”
I shake my head, my long hair blowing around my face in the breeze.
“I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together, Esme, but you can talk to any counselor here. Confidentially, if that’s what you want.”
Why does she assume I need a confidential chat? Because I’m sitting alone?
“I appreciate that.”
Mary’s big dark eyes watch me and wait, like she’s thinking I’m about to spill my life story. I look away when her gaze starts to feel like it’s boring into me.
Finally, she smiles. “Okay. I can tell something is wrong. Will you speak to someone if you need to?”
I don’t want her to start telling the other counselors that I’m not okay.
“We haven’t heard anything from this person in a couple of days,” I say. “In theory that’s a good sign. But it doesn’t feel good, you know?”
“We were told to keep quiet and then nothing else would happen,” Mary says.
“No, he said that if we don’t alert the cops or anyone else, then the campers would be fine. What’s the point of making us keep quiet and doing nothing? What does he get out of that? It doesn’t make sense.”
Not knowing what Lillian has planned is driving me insane. She could tell everyone what Kayla and I did at any moment. Would Andy kick us out? Right now, our friends think we’re good people.
I drop my head. Am I not a good person?
Can one stupid decision really define you? Kayla and I never intended any harm.
Mary purses her lips, clearly turning my words over in her mind. I can see her making sense of them. “I don’t think you’re wrong, but none of this makes sense. Unless this person has a personal grudge against someone here, why would they continue to harass us?”
“You think they’re just messing around?”
“No, I definitely think someone is out there and they want us to be scared. I’m unsure if I believe they want to hurt us.”
I want to believe that Lillian just wants to scare us.
“Are you still Team Cops?”
Her lips slide into a smile. “Yes, I’m still Team Cops.”
“They’re not always that helpful. Sometimes the law doesn’t allow them to be.”
“Oh, I know. I had a friend once, this girl whose ex
wouldn’t leave her alone. There was nothing the cops could legally do unless he threatened her, or worse.”
“What happened?”
“The ex strangled her to death, exactly one month after the restraining order expired.”
I swallow. “Oh.”
“It’s not a nice story.”
“So you’re saying that the cops can’t do anything unless this freak hurts one of us?”
It all sounds rather contradictory. If Mary knows that nothing can be done, why does she want to go to the police?
“There has been a direct threat, and children are here. I think more can be done in this case,” she says.
“Even though we don’t have a clue who it is? Or how many of them they might be?” I ask.
“How many?” With a shudder, she adds, “There’s a chilling thought.”
“I think it’s more than one. Do you?”
“I doubt anyone could do this alone.”
Good, she’s got there, too.
“Do you think two people could do all of this?”
Her lips part in a small gasp. “I can just about deal with two, not a whole group.”
Lillian lived around here. Who’s to say she hasn’t brought her friends in for a little revenge?
“You think they’ll show themselves?” I ask.
“You said yourself that it doesn’t make sense to threaten us, then walk away.”
“Perhaps,” I say, frowning. “You mentioned them having an issue with one of us. How would they know we’d be here?”
“It’s likely teens from town getting their sick kicks from scaring us, Esme. But I don’t think it’s smart to ignore the possibility that one of us in particular is being targeted.”
I need to change the subject.
“It’s so pretty here,” I say.
“Do you want to come back next summer?” Mary asks.
Absolutely not.
“I think so. How long have you been coming here?”
“Three years.” She laughs. “I think Andy was born here.”
“Yeah, he loves it.”
“He’s good at his job. There’s a lot more to it than just making sure the campers have fun and learn new skills. He’s managing staff too…and this situation. The past few days, he’s looked tired.”
“No one is getting much sleep. Besides the campers, that is.”
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