Page 48 of Puck Your Friend
She looks at me, eyes searching mine, like she’s trying to gauge whether I’ll make a big deal out of this. I hold the bottle steady between us. She reaches out and takes it without a word, her clammy fingers brushing mine for half a second.
“Thanks.”She takes a long drink from it. At least she’s thirsty.
I swallow hard. It’s difficult not to reach for my phone and call for an ambulance, but we can’t force her to accept medical care. “You good?”
She doesn’t meet my gaze. “Fine. Just tired.”
The moment she tries to stand, her knee gives. One hand grabs for the cushion behind her.
Ford and Jace shift to help.
I beat them to it. My hand catches her elbow. “Let me help you upstairs.”
She doesn’t fight me with her normal sassy independence. She lets me help her. I glance at the others and their frowns say they’re worried, too.
We walk together. Her steps short as she keeps her eyes forward. It takes everything not to lift her and carry her the rest of the way. Good thing I’m next to her. Otherwise I’d be worried she’d fall down the stairs.
At her door, she pauses.“Thanks for walking me to my room. Goodnight, Lo.”
She hasn’t called me Lo since we were kids, and despite my worry for her, it puts a smile on my face. “Of course, Kie, anything for you. Goodnight.”
She slips inside, and the door clicks shut behind her.
I stand there for far too long, battling the urge to open the door to make sure she makes it into bed. Things have changed so much since we were younger.
11 years ago… (Age 16)
The bag slung across my back shifts with every step. Inside are Hot Cheetos tucked beside a pack of peach rings and bottles of water. I hope she likes them. I know they’re her favorites with how much she gets them at the Snack Shack.
I keep the flashlight low, angled at the ground. So that it doesn’t bounce around while I head toward the ‘treehouse’.
Frankie’s already there, leaning against the trunk near the ladder, swinging her flashlight back and forth from its tether. Her hair is loosely tied back, some of her curls spring free at the edges.
She glances at my flashlight beam, then back at me. “Took you long enough.”
I smirk, keeping the light angled at her feet. “Had to dodge the counselors doing rounds near the mess hall. Almost got caught.”
Her eyes roll. “Bet you ducked behind the canoe racks again.”
I shrug. “If it ain’t broke, as they say.”
She snorts and jerks her chin at the ladder. “You going first, or am I?”
I nod toward the rungs. “You. That way, if you fall, I can catch you.”
Her eyes roll again before she turns and heads up.
I fall in behind her, and we climb to the platform.
It isn’t much. Old slats, sun-bleached and warped, with a railing around the edge. We settle there, legs dangling over the side, arms resting on the second level of the railing. Crickets and cicadas fill the air. My gaze goes up to the sky. I still can’t believe the sheer amount of stars we can see out here.
I drop the bag beside me and start pulling things out.
Frankie spots the Cheetos and grabs them first.“You really do know my soul.” Her grin pulls sideways as she tears into the bag.
I toss her the peach rings and she catches it.
Setting the Cheetos aside, she turns the bag in her hand and frowns. “What is your favorite candy? I’ve never seen you get anything like that from the Snack Shack.”
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