by Laura Wolfe
Kaitlyn stepped forward. “I’ll go, too.”
“Me too,” I said. “Sam, you can stay with Jenna.”
“Thank God,” Sam said as she plopped down on the grass next to Jenna’s feet.
Charlotte, Kaitlyn, and I trudged across the uneven grass. I checked my phone out of habit, still finding zero reception.
“I don’t see anyone now.” Charlotte craned her neck toward the trees.
We approached the camp office. If the person Charlotte had seen was a camp worker, maybe another staff member was in here. I peered through a dusty side window, but only a dim room lay before me. Its barren walls contained nothing more than a utilitarian desk with some office supplies and a wooden chair. “No one’s here.” My friends nodded and continued walking. I trotted to catch up with them.
“Where did you see the person?” Kaitlyn asked Charlotte as we continued trekking past the building labeled Arts and Crafts.
“Over by those cabins.” Charlotte wiped her palms on her shorts, tipping her head toward the cabins at the top of a distant incline. A wall of forest loomed behind the tiny wooden structures. “I’m not sure it was a person, though. It could have been another deer or a squirrel or something. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Kaitlyn pushed a stray piece of hair from her face. “No. It’s fine. We’re already halfway there. Let’s make a loop behind the cabins to make Jenna happy. Then we can head back.”
“Sounds good,” I said, lengthening my stride to keep up with Kaitlyn.
We hiked through the tall grass for another few minutes until the cabins lay in front of us. Their matching doors were closed; spiderwebs stretched across their darkened windows.
Kaitlyn paused, looking at Charlotte and me, then facing toward the woods. “Hello!” she yelled. “Is someone here? Our friend is injured. We need a bandage.” Kaitlyn placed her hands on her hips and twisted her lips to the side.
We stood still for a minute, listening for a response, or even footsteps. There was no answer, except for the wind fluttering through the tree branches.
Kaitlyn waved us forward. “C’mon. Let’s take a quick look.”
I followed her along a narrow dirt path that ran behind the cabins. Charlotte stumbled along behind me.
“Is anyone there?” Kaitlyn yelled as we passed a communal bathroom with a padlock on the door. Again, there was no sound except for our own shoes hitting the ground.
“There’s no one around. I must have made a mistake,” Charlotte said.
“Yeah.”
“No worries. Let’s head back,” I said, nudging Charlotte’s arm.
We turned past the last cabin, following the shady trail until we stepped into the sunlight. Several minutes later, we arrived back at the far hill where Jenna and Sam lounged beneath a leafy tree.
“There wasn’t anyone there,” Kaitlyn told them as we approached.
Jenna tossed back her head. “Oh man. I was hoping for a golf cart ride back to our cabin.”
I smiled at Jenna’s joke.
“Golf cart,” Charlotte said under her breath as she chuckled along with the others.
Sam and Jenna stood up, brushing dirt and leaves from their legs.
“Let’s get a move on,” I said. “Jenna, you can lean on me.”
“Thanks.” She looped her arm around my shoulder, and we walked behind the others. We passed the nearby cabins and the zip line, the archery field, and the climbing wall until we reached the narrow path that branched off from the camp trail. My shoulder ached under Jenna’s weight, and when Sam saw me struggling, she offered to take my place.
“Can I rest my ankle?” Jenna said after several more minutes of hobbling along the trail.
We stopped and sat on a fallen log.
Sam looked at the rest of us. “Do you think Travis followed us?”
Charlotte tugged at her shirt, her eyes traveling over the trees. “I doubt it. No one was over there when we looked. It was probably just a deer.”
“Something else must have scared them,” I said.
“Why is this place so terrifying?” Jenna asked. “Next year, can we meet at a hotel in Vegas?”
“I second that,” Kaitlyn said.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because nothing bad ever happens in Vegas.”
Sam furrowed her brow, watching Jenna as she rubbed her ankle. “When we get back to the cabin, let’s drive into town and buy an ace bandage. Your ankle needs more support.”
“What town?” I asked, and the others laughed.
“Maybe the grocery store we passed has something,” Sam said.
“I’m sure they keep the ace bandages right next to the night crawlers.”
We all chuckled and the humor eased the tension in my neck. When Jenna was ready, we resumed our trek. We hiked along, resting, and checking over our shoulders for the person Charlotte may or may not have seen at the camp.
“I’m so happy we’re all still friends,” Sam said out of nowhere as we stepped along the trail.
“Yeah. There aren’t any other people I’d rather injure myself with.” Jenna flashed a smile. “Do you ever wonder how your life would be different if we hadn’t met freshman year?”
My cheeks burned at the question. I trained my eyes away from Jenna as my breath hitched in my throat.
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounds weird, but I feel like we still would have found each other.”
“I would hate to think about the scenario where we’d never met,” Kaitlyn said. “After all, Charlotte introduced me to Derek. So maybe without her, I wouldn’t even have my daughters.”
We walked in silence for a few steps. I hoped Jenna wasn’t thinking about how her life might have been better if she’d never met me.
“Remember all the parties we had in our house on 14th Street?” I asked, attempting to change the subject.
Memories of one particular party flickered through my mind. I’d seen the photos last night in Kaitlyn’s album.
Charlotte huffed. “I think I’d rather forget.”
Chapter Ten
“One, two, three.” Sam counted as we lifted the upholstered chair and moved it toward the far wall. It was a Friday night in October of our junior year. A party was underway at our rental house. Jenna had given up looking for her mug several weeks earlier, although I sometimes caught her staring at one of us when she thought no one was looking. It was clear she suspected we were involved in its sudden disappearance.
Loud music pulsed from speakers. Drums thumped through my chest, followed by techno beats on a synthesizer. Jenna’s boyfriend, Pete, nodded toward us as he hoisted one side of the keg. He was also attending school on a soccer scholarship, and he and Jenna looked like two pieces of the same puzzle— both tall, blonde, athletic, and good-looking. They’d met in the weight room a month ago and had been inseparable ever since. The pairing was sickeningly cute. Sam’s boyfriend, Johnny Franklin, wore a Bob Marley T-shirt and a jester’s cap. He carried a keg toward us and positioned it in the spot where the chair had been. Our supply of beer cans had run dry thirty minutes earlier, but now reinforcements had arrived.
“Perfect!” Charlotte flashed a flirtatious smile toward Pete and clapped her hands.
“Easy, girl.” Annoyance flashed in Jenna’s eyes. She stepped in between Charlotte and her boyfriend, holding out her cup.
Charlotte scurried away, stopping to chat with my boyfriend, Dan. The two of them stood near the kitchen door as Charlotte threw her head back in exaggerated laughter.
“Like a moth to a flame.” Sam tilted her head toward Charlotte. Sam pulled at the ratty ends of her black hair, the beginnings of dreadlocks. The ropy clumps hung halfway down her shirt, which pictured a giant peace sign in rainbow colors. She and Johnny had discovered a shared love for weed, and they enjoyed flaunting their lifestyle.
I raised my eyebrows just as Charlotte placed her hand on Dan’s arm. He said something to her, then stepped back and looked in my direct
ion. I gave a half-wave, and he smiled.
We’d all learned not to take Charlotte’s flirtatious behavior too seriously. Other than her overly friendly demeanor around men, particularly those who were already spoken for, she’d never crossed any lines. At least, as far as we knew. Sam, Jenna, Kaitlyn, and I often discussed Charlotte’s quest for male attention, and we’d agreed it was a sign of insecurity, probably stemming from her emotionally distant father. Charlotte had told me plenty of stories about her not-so-perfect home life, but the first time I’d glimpsed it myself had been parents’ weekend of freshman year. Only her mother had shown up as Charlotte explained how her father had to stay with her brothers and tend to the cows. Her mother joined the rest of the parents in our group for dinner at Pizza Pete’s. The woman barely spoke two words the whole night and raised a few eyebrows when she ordered her fourth whiskey sour.
Dan headed toward me, while Charlotte avoided my eyes and left to join a growing crowd of people in the kitchen. A line of muscular men strutted toward the keg and shouted to Pete, and I assumed they were Pete’s soccer friends. Kaitlyn sauntered in from the kitchen, drawing the soccer players' eyes toward her fiery hair and tall frame. She wore a tight sweater that was cut low in front. I chuckled to myself. Pete’s friends had gone speechless. The front door opened and someone else slipped in. Unlike the soccer players’ confident posturing and Kaitlyn’s attention-grabbing physique, this person pressed herself against the wall as if trying to blend in with the paint.
“Hi Frida!” Sam waved toward the woman, and I did a double take. I hadn’t seen Frida since the year before when she occasionally stopped by the last house we’d rented to pick up Charlotte for lunch or to walk to class. I’d never been sure how much Charlotte had told Frida about our four-to-one vote to keep her from living with us, and the encounters had always been cordial but awkward. Frida’s hair was longer and less greasy, and she’d lost weight. Mascara and shimmery lipstick accentuated her features. Her clothes, while not particularly trendy, fit well. She wore jeans and a black T-shirt with black ankle boots.
Frida stepped toward us with a smile twitching in the corner of her lips. “Hi.”
I hoped to hide the shock on my face and found my voice. “Wow. You look great. Did you have a good summer?”
Frida shoved her hands into her jean pockets. “Yeah. I stayed in Milwaukee and took a few classes. I volunteered at a shelter for abused women.”
“That’s awesome,” Sam said. “I need to do something meaningful like that.”
“I can give you their number.”
“Do you want a beer?” I asked Frida, reaching for a cup.
“No. Maybe later.” Frida’s eyes darted around the room. “Charlotte invited me.”
“Yeah. I think she’s in the kitchen.”
Frida nodded. “Thanks.” She lowered her head and made a beeline away from us.
I raised my eyebrows at Sam. “Looks like college is agreeing with someone.”
“No kidding. She’s really transformed. I mean, comparatively speaking.” Johnny swooped behind Sam and wrapped his bony arms around her. “Hey, beautiful. Nice dreads.”
She flicked one of the bells hanging from his ridiculous hat. “Nice hat.”
“Want to go smoke a joint?”
“I guess you can twist my arm.” She turned toward me. “Want to partake, Megan?”
My eyes found Dan across the room. “No. I’m good.”
Sam shrugged. Johnny took her by the hand and led her, giggling, up the stairs.
I made my way from the living room into the kitchen, where people gathered in packs, and the music wasn’t as loud. My head was light and fuzzy with the buzz of alcohol, and the air smelled of cigarette smoke and beer. I’d lost Dan to a raucous game of beer pong in the living room. I took the opportunity to slip away to use the bathroom. Charlotte and Frida stood against the counter, beer cups in hand. A tall guy with a sandy-blonde crew cut and muscular arms hovered across from Charlotte, his shorter and squatter friend at his side. The taller guy said something, and Charlotte flung her chin toward the ceiling and laughed as if she’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. Frida shifted her feet and focused on drinking her beer. I shook my head, relieved at least that Charlotte had turned her overdone giggles away from my boyfriend. I made my way over to the group.
Charlotte’s eyes brightened when she saw me. “Hi Megan. You remember Frida.”
Frida’s dark eyes flitted toward me, then back to the floor.
“Yeah. We chatted earlier.”
Charlotte motioned toward the guys. “And this is Derek and Bryce.”
The two men nodded toward me and said hi.
Charlotte flashed me a knowing smile. “Derek is in my Chemistry study group. I ran into them at the coffee shop yesterday and told them about our party.”
“We never turn down free beer,” Bryce said, and everyone laughed.
I smiled at them and rocked to the side because my bladder felt like it was going to burst. “Glad you could make it.”
“It turns out they live in the same apartment building where I lived last year,” Frida said.
I nearly jumped at the rare sound of Frida’s voice. “No kidding. What are the odds?”
“Do you like that building?” Charlotte asked them, lowering her eyelashes.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Kaitlyn poke her head through the doorway. I waved toward her and she grinned.
“Sorry, I need to run to the ladies’ room,” I said, interrupting Derek’s description of the bare-bones apartment he rented with three friends. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
They nodded toward me and resumed their conversation.
A few minutes later, I returned from the bathroom, feeling a million times more comfortable. Kaitlyn stood in the spot where I’d been, and I squeezed in between her and Charlotte. Derek’s friend had drifted over to another group of people. The dynamics had transformed in the short time I’d been gone. Now it was Kaitlyn who fluttered her eyelashes, flipped her hair back, and blushed like a schoolgirl every time the handsome man across from her spoke. Kaitlyn was usually on the receiving end of male attention, and it was almost uncomfortable to watch her flirting so overtly. I raised my eyebrows at Charlotte and she shrugged, her lips flat. The connection between Kaitlyn and Derek was obvious. Even Frida seemed aware of the electricity, her unsteady gaze flitting between the lovestruck couple as if watching lightning strike two trees at once.
“I’m going to refill my beer,” Charlotte said.
“I’ll come with you.” I followed Charlotte and Frida into the living room, where Sam had joined the drinking game.
Charlotte’s shoulders slumped as she refilled her beer and took a few long sips.
I squeezed my friend’s arm, sensing her disappointment. It was sad how Charlotte lived or died by a man’s approval. We leaned against the back of the couch and cheered as Dan, Pete, Sam, and a few others lobbed ping pong balls into cups. Frida made a strange comment about the weather and left a few minutes later.
Eventually the partygoers thinned out, having headed home or to different parties. Derek and Bryce left through the front door.
When our house had quieted, and we collected empty cups and cans for recycling, Kaitlyn floated toward us, her cheeks rosy, and her eyes beaming. She positioned herself in front of Charlotte and sighed. “I can never thank you enough.”
“For what?”
A dreamy smile stretched across Kaitlyn’s face. “For introducing me to my future husband.”
“He’s an awesome guy,” Charlotte said. “I’m happy for you.”
I nodded. “You guys looked cute together.”
Jenna edged closer, a smirk on her lips. “Make sure to watch your back, Kaitlyn. Charlotte’s got a thing for men in relationships.”
Charlotte glared at Jenna. “Shut up. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Relax, Charlotte. I’m only joking.”
But the joke was thinly veiled, and
no one except Jenna laughed.
Chapter Eleven
After forty-five minutes of hiking, we sat on the deck, drinking from our refilled water bottles and eating leftover pizza. Refueled and refreshed, we piled into Charlotte’s minivan, determined to locate a bandage for Jenna’s ankle, along with some ibuprofen for her pain.
Charlotte started the ignition, and the minivan crept forward for a half-second before lurching to a stop.
“What’s going on?” Jenna said.
Charlotte’s face fell. An orange service light glowed from the dashboard. “Oh no. Are you serious?”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think I have a flat tire.”
We exited the minivan and crawled around opposite sides of the vehicle, peering underneath.
“I found it.” I pointed to the front passenger tire, which looked like it was melting into the ground.
“No. It’s over here,” Kaitlyn said.
We paced around to the front, realizing we were both correct. Two front tires were deflated.
“Are you kidding me? These tires aren’t even a year old,” Charlotte said, rubbing her temples. “How did this even happen?”
“You must have run over something at the airport.” Kaitlyn crouched down to inspect the tread. “I don’t see anything sticking out. Do you?”
I steadied myself, remembering yesterday’s bumpy ride down the never-ending dirt road. “Or it could have been all those potholes you hit.”
Sam tipped her head back. “This is great. Now what are we supposed to do? We don’t even have phone reception.”
My stomach folded as I rested my hands on my thighs. A fresh layer of sweat formed across my back. This trip was turning into a disaster. Why had I let myself be pressured into this weekend away? My gut had warned me not to go. It had practically screamed at me to make an excuse or cancel last-minute. Always listen to your instincts. How many times a week had I offered that piece of wisdom to my patients? But I hadn’t bothered to follow my own advice. I’d convinced myself the weekend would be good for me. Healing, even. I hadn’t wanted to be the one person who didn’t show up, the one person to disappoint everyone.
