Page 24

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When I get back to my room, Liv isn’t there.

With a sigh, I strip off my coat and check my phone.

Zander texted me twice while I was out there in the wilderness.

Everyone’s going to Henry’s, the pool bar, for beer and wings tonight.

I suppose I’ll be going too. It’s back to reality for me, and I although I want to be comforted by this, I’m not.

The contrast is too stark. Maybe after a few beers I’ll feel better.

Wings, on the other hand? I’ve never been a fan. Too much mess for too little reward.

While the setting sun turns the clouds yellow and pink, I try to do some reading for sociology, but my thoughts won’t stop wandering to the ghost town and the logging accident.

No wonder the grief in the graveyard was so potent.

I stare absently out the window, contemplating all the scenarios: young wives suddenly becoming widows, parents mourning their sons, children crying for their fathers.

Ugh. Why do I do this to myself?

I turn back to my reading, but after only a minute, the words begin to blur.

I’m tempted to nap, but when I close my eyes, I feel the mill-workers all over again—their panic, desperation, and horror—all those emotions, all that energy, trapped in time.

How long were they buried under those logs before they died?

And how many hundreds, or even thousands, of people have walked through that same space where the deaths occurred and felt nothing but the sun on their faces and the ground under their feet? So many people. But not me.

I lift my necklace off my chest and circle the pendant with my thumb.

I won’t let anything happen to you.

Leo may’ve defied the gods with that promise, but I feel like he kept it as best he could. Yes, I had the worst ‘psychic’ experience of my life, but he was there for me. He understood. And that made me feel safer than any white knight with a sword ever could.

It’s weird. In a few short weeks, I’ve gotten as close to him as I am to Liv and Zander.

How did that happen? I hardly know anything about him, the surface details anyway.

Is it messed up when you know a person’s opinions on The Scarlet Letter but not their exact age?

I don’t know if Leo’s parents are married or if he has any siblings.

I don’t know what kind of music he likes, or why he doesn’t know any acronyms. Aren’t those the important things?

For the next hour I play ping-pong with my thoughts. Leo. Sociology. Leo. Mill workers. Sociology. Hugging trees. Leo.

Just before dinnertime, Liv breezes through the door. “Hey,” she says, tossing her heavy backpack onto her bed. “Where’ve you been? I got back this morning and you were gone.”

“I was communing with nature.”

“All day?”

“Pretty much.”

“Where?” She’s smiling, but there’s a suspicious edge to her voice.

Recalling the vow I made to myself to keep her at the center of my life, I fess up and tell her where I went, and with whom.

“You were with that Leo guy? Seriously? Zander is gonna lose his shit. ”

“There’s nothing to lose his shit over. Leo and I are just friends.”

“Yeah, but everyone says he had his hands all over you.”

I assume she’s referring to the incident at the party that set Zander off. I also assume that by “everyone,” she means Braden.

“He didn’t,” I say. Leo’s hands were on my waist, not all over me. “We were just talking.”

Liv avoids my eyes as she takes her laptop out of her bag. “Lara says he’s hot.”

“You were talking to Lara?” If KPT has forgiven Liv for stealing Braden, then that’s one less thing I have to worry about.

“No,” Liv shrugs, her attention focused on her laptop charger. “I just heard.”

Great. Rumors about me are flying all over Greek Row.

“So is he?” she prods.

“Is he what?”

“Is Leo hot?”

I try way too hard to sound objective and neutral. “Um, sure. He’s good-looking.”

Liv snorts and rolls her eyes. “That means he’s hot.” She turns from her desk and rests a fist on her hip. “Just be careful, Betts.”

“I will if you will.”

“About what?”

“Braden.”

“Oh, please.” Suddenly, she’s very busy with her backpack. “We all know what game he’s playing.”

She says that, but does she really? I want to press her on it, but I’m afraid that if I do, she’ll press me on Leo, and I have no idea how to explain that relationship.

To change the subject, I ask her where she was this afternoon.

“Library.” She snatches something off the shelf above her desk. “And look, I left my phone here so I wouldn’t be distracted.”

“Did it work?”

“Like a charm. I got so much reading done.”

As she glances down at the screen, her smile fades. I’m guessing there’s no message from Braden. She swallows a sigh and with a casual flip of her hair, asks, “Are we going to Henry’s?”

When I answer in the affirmative, she perks up. Two minutes later, she’s running for the showers.

Since neither of us wants to make a meal of wings and beer, we grab dinner at the dining hall before heading downtown. At Henry’s, the guys are playing pool while Jenna and Mia sit on barstools, nibbling onion rings and pretending to pay attention to the game.

Zander lights up the moment he sees me. “Hey babe. What took you so long?”

“We had dinner.”

He greets me with a kiss, enveloping me in his warmth and beachy scent.

Only Zander can smell like summer in the middle of November.

With an arm around me, he leads me to the table where the guys have left a heaping pile of chicken wing bones as a monument to their gluttony.

Zander pours me a beer from the half-full pitcher and is about to do the same for Liv, when Braden suddenly appears and elbows him aside.

“Nuh uh.” He flashes Liv his lady-killer grin. “That’s my job.”

Liv nearly swoons.

Disguising my frown, I whisper to Zander, “How long is he going to keep this up?”

Zander shrugs, unbothered. “Who knows with Braden?”

Jenna joins Liv and me at the table while Mia plays a round of pool with Jake. Apparently, they’re running a double-elimination tournament. An hour and a beer later, I’m bored, restless, and barely tipsy. Compared to the day I had, tonight is as unremarkable as a seventy degree day in San Diego.

Jake and Trevor argue over who ate the most wings and who’s the fastest a racking balls. Jenna and Liv huddle over their phones, scrolling TikTok and discussing cottagecore porch decorations.

And they don’t even have porches.

Earlier today, Leo and I talked about history, nature, and metaphysics. I hugged a tree and its energy coursed through my veins. A hundred years ago, seven men were crushed to death by falling logs, and I felt the entire horrifying experience.

Ready to rip out my hair, I glance over at the pool table.

Zander catches my eye and flashes me a smile.

Of all the guys here, he’s the sweetest. He’s not a player like Braden, or inattentive like Trevor.

Nor is he as immature as Cole and Jake. The way they’re smack talking and chest thumping right now, you’d think the state of the free world rode on their pool game.

They’re twelve-year-olds in twenty-year-olds’ bodies.

I’m lucky to have Zander. Yeah, Leo seems to understand me better, but have I given Zander half a chance? I assumed he didn’t know anything about Napoleon, and he proved me wrong. Maybe he doesn’t understand me because I don’t share all of myself with him.

When Jake wins the pool tournament, he pumps his fists in the air like he’s the champion of the WWE. Zander, who came in third, pats his back and congratulates him. Braden is too busy tasting Liv’s neck to care.

Even when we get back to O-Chi, the guys are still competing, only now it’s on Smash Bros. It’s bloodless and mildly entertaining, but I’m still grateful when Zander goes out in the tournament’s third round. That means he’ll have more attention for me.

He sinks into the couch and stretches an arm across my back, but he doesn’t settle in until I drop my head on his shoulder and nestle against him. The musty upholstery, his hair tickling my temple, the bleeps and bloops of the video game—they’re all very ordinary, but comforting in a way.

Braden elbows Zander. “Did you tell Betsy what happened to her cooler?”

“No, I forgot.”

I lift my head. “What happened to my cooler?”

Braden laughs. “Somebody stole it.”

“What?” I sit up. “Who?”

He shrugs as he mashes the buttons on his game controller. “Fuck if we know. ”

“Someone on the inside,” Zander says, urging me back under his arm. “Because they swiped it right out of my closet Thursday night. Remember how I had it all stocked up for you?”

I only had one beer that night because I had a philosophy exam the next morning. So whoever stole the cooler struck a Bud Light goldmine.

“I feel a little violated,” I joke, but I underneath I’m half serious. That cooler has lasted as long as Zander and I have, and now it’s gone.

“I know, right?” Zander squeezes me tighter. “If I knew who it was, I’d kick their ass. Nobody touches what belongs to my girl.”

My mouth goes dry. That threat is disturbingly familiar. How am I supposed to reassure him Leo and I are just friends when he gets territorial over a cooler?

We endure the mind-numbing tournament for another half hour before I declare myself sleepy and coax Zander upstairs.

I flop back onto his bed, reaching for him as he crawls over me on hands and knees.

“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” he asks.

“No. To my grandparents’ in Richmond.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

He kisses me. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come home with me.”

“Really?” I’m suddenly all gooey inside, like my crush just asked me to prom.

“Yeah. My brother’s bringing his girlfriend, so it’ll be, like, a couples’ thing. Mom’s all excited about it.”

“Oh, Zander,” I sigh. “I wish you’d asked me sooner. I already have my plane ticket and everything.”

“You’re flying to Richmond?”

“I don’t have a car.” For some reason, he always seems to forget that fact .