Page 23 of Vying Girls (Girls of Hazelhurst #2)

I’m kind of relieved. A whole weekend of nothing means time to digest everything.

This stuff with Nic and Damien, and now somehow me.

Always tied, me and her. God, everything makes so much sense now.

Her odd, peppered comments. The way she always looked at me.

Halloween hadn’t been our first meeting after all.

That look of rage seems even more haunting now.

Haz left me with Elly a while ago, but I seem to have lost her too. I push my way off the dance floor, quickly spotting her against the wall, empty glass in hand.

‘Hey. Thought you’d done a runner like New Year’s Eve.’

Elly rolls her eyes. ‘I was chucking up in the forest, I told you.’

‘The forest as opposed to all the lodge toilets. I’ve even seen you vom in the bath.’

‘Aw, babe. I was so fucked that night. I was trying to see the moon. I wanted to show you it.’

‘You are too cute, Elly-Belly.’

I lean up and kiss her, balancing on her biceps. She kisses me back for only a moment before ducking her head.

‘Hey.’ I stroke hair back from her forehead. ‘Are you okay? You seem a bit off tonight.’

‘Yeah, just… Tilds, why didn’t you tell me you and Nic knew each other before?’

‘What?’

Elly shakes her head beseechingly. ‘Please don’t deny it.’

‘I’m not denying it. Was it Haz who told you?’

She shrugs, a sad smile on her lips. ‘Just thought we were more than that. That’s a pretty big deal, Tilda. And then all this stuff with Damien I didn’t know either.’

‘Elly. We are more than that. We’re the fucking most.’ I tip my head back, feeling like I might cry.

‘I just hadn’t got round to telling you yet.

It…it still feels surreal, saying it out loud.

Like it’s not happening. Like I’m crazy or something.

Elly, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please.

I’d never want to do that. I didn’t choose to tell Haz and not you. It just kind of happened.’

I want to roll my eyes at how trite that sounds.

Elly nods, still with that heartbreaking smile on her face. ‘No foul, babe. Just sucks being the last to know everything.’

‘I’ll tell you everything, I promise. Tomorrow, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ She deposits a quick kiss on my cheek. ‘Sure. I’m gonna go and get another drink. Go find Haz, yeah?’

I nod helplessly, watching her go.

Was that our first fight? First and last hopefully. I can’t bear to see her sad, especially to be the cause of it.

I gasp when an arm grabs me and spins me around.

‘You’re not supposed to be alone,’ Nic says.

‘Chill out.’ I shake off her grip. ‘There’s like hundreds of people here.’

‘Not good enough.’ She gestures with her head. ‘Come on.’

‘Where?’

‘The Vaults. I’m not done yet and they obviously can’t be trusted with you.’

‘I don’t want to go to the Vaults.’

‘Tough.’ She takes my wrist again, tugging me on. ‘I need another bag.’

‘No, I think you’ve had enough, Nic.’

‘Don’t think I have.’

The vibe changes as soon as we get outside. The music becomes muffled, the tree boundary seeming more like a barrier than anything inviting.

I fumble with my phone as we track through the woods, posting in the group chat where we’re going. I’m not happy about this. Not even a little bit. There’re students weaving through the trees, but it still feels dark and lonely. Like Damien could be out there, watching us even now.

Doesn’t help when I notice Nic peering round. She’s trying not to make it obvious, but I’m ridiculously in tune with her, every sense of mine heightened when I’m in her presence. Months of being on edge will do that.

I suppose someone has to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t destroy herself. I did that a lot when we were kids. My little pet to look after. Always so malleable and obliging until one of her darker moods struck. Then she was unreachable to me. Exactly like now.

I expect another fight when we get to the boats, but the Charon doesn’t utter a thing. They just row on silently, creepy as anything. They could even be Damien. How would we know?

The mouth of the cave gapes wider. The boats ahead get chewed up by it. It’s disturbing how quickly they disappear into the black. It’s even less appealing when you’re not completely hammered.

Don’t get me wrong, I love dark aesthetics, but with this place, the vibes are just off.

‘Literally hate this place,’ I mutter.

Nic doesn’t even acknowledge me with a glance.

We dock with a quiet thud, then it’s a tense walk through the tunnels until we emerge into the cavern.

Nothing quiet in here. It’s heaving. Up on the ledge, Northbound Wolves are playing, two on guitars, one on drums. All of them in cloaks, masks and fake blood.

I bet they get that shit everywhere. Only their torsos show they’re female, with blood-smeared abs and sports bras, trousers slung lower than necessary and showing v-lines.

I hadn’t given a second thought to what they looked like when I saw them with Haz, but now my eyes linger a little longer, appreciating their harsh femininity.

Definitely an aesthetic I can get behind, but I would absolutely not want to meet any of them down a dark alley. The masks work for the band, but outside of playing music, they’re pretty terrifying.

‘Didn’t know they were playing here tonight,’ I call to Nic.

‘Why would you? You’re not part of this place.’

‘Am now.’

For better or worse.

Nic still has a hold of me, pinching my t-shirt between her fingers. I might as well buy her a set of toddler reins. Make it more effective.

She’s peering round, this time with a sense of impatience rather than trepidation.

‘She’s so fucking small,’ she mutters with a head shake.

She leads me around the edge of the dance floor and onto a raised hunk of rock.

‘Who are we looking for?’

‘Skylar.’

The stone wall at our backs vibrates with the rock music.

Damn, they’re really good. I recognise some songs from the set I watched.

She’s got the huskiest voice, the one in the middle with the guitar.

Husky but guttural. The way she sings raises the hairs on my neck.

She’s definitely seen some pain, that one.

‘I see her,’ I say, suddenly spotting Skylar directly below the ledge.

Nic leans down, trying to get onto my eyeline. ‘Where?’

‘At the front, there.’

She keeps her face close to mine as she searches. She’s not quite as buffeting as Haz, but she has a presence my body responds to, awareness prickling all over my skin. Especially tonight, with that wild, wounded energy surrounding her.

‘Got her.’ She hops down, absently reaching a hand up for me.

We make an arc around the dance floor, to where the music’s deafening. Skylar doesn’t seem to care. She’s on her own, dancing with a drink in her hand, the small tattoos on her face stretching as she smiles. She looks so free, not appearing to give a shit about anything.

For a second, I’m jealous. Then I realise I’m thinking of Elly and Haz, and the threesome they had, and wonder if that’s the reason for it. I’d prefer that. That’s easier to explain than being envious of someone else’s soul.

She looks up when Nic approaches. Her eyes, when they find her, are just as blown, impossible to tell the colour of with how large her pupils are. She’s in a t-shirt dress I covet, with weird red smears all over her exposed, tatted skin. Blood. That’s what it looks like.

It’s impossible to know what her and Nic are talking into each other’s ears about, but it becomes clear when Skylar presents her palm with a baggie in it.

I never held much of an opinion of her, but it definitely lowers now.

Some friend she is, enabling Nic’s bad habit, the one that undoubtedly caused her heart emergency last year.

Nic waves the bag in thanks then nods me on.

‘I’m assuming that’s fake blood,’ I say once we’ve found somewhere quieter.

‘She’s fucking the band.’

‘All of them?’

Nic chuckles. ‘Wouldn’t put it past her.’

We lean on the stone next to one of those glass rooms. It’s fogged over at the moment, making me wonder what’s going on inside. I feel pervy looking. Could just be people shooting up, but when it unfogs a few minutes later, I think something a lot sexier went on judging by the couple’s appearance.

Undeterred, Nic enters the room. I follow more hesitantly, wishing I wasn’t wondering just how many people have banged in here tonight.

Yeah, this place is a lot less fun when you’re borderline sober.

Nic gets her stuff all arranged on the table, her tall form bending over it.

She looks casual in a pair of faded black jeans and a thin white t-shirt.

Effortlessly roguish. Like she’s just shoved on her dad’s clothes for fun.

Not that he would have worn anything like that. I remember him mostly in suits.

‘What is that stuff?’

‘No fucking idea.’ She holds out the little straw she’s made. ‘Want some? It’s giving me the weirdest feeling in my feet.’

I frown, shaking my head. ‘That doesn’t sound remotely appealing.’

Nic backs off but holds my eyes as she snorts up the pale blue powder.

‘You used to drink potions made from clovers and rainwater.’

‘Yeah—when I was a kid.’

It’s jarring to hear her allude to our childhood. Is it just the drugs enabling her to do that? Or this whole place? The rest of the world does seem sort of faded here.

I join her at the table when I see her cut a second line. ‘Nic. Please stop.’

She ignores me, snapping her head back with her eyes closed. ‘All got our vices, Tilda. You cut yourself on the outside, I cut myself on the inside.’

‘Cutting myself’s not going to result in a heart attack.’

‘How do you know? You know, your body gets a massive adrenaline dump when you do that. It’s why the last cut barely hurts.’ She gestures at my legs with the straw. ‘Shit’s not good for your heart either.’

I shake my head, not bothering to argue. She’s always been a clever little shit.