Page 32 of What Did I Miss?

Makayla moves from cabin to cabin, doing head checks.

All students are accounted for. Teachers also retreat for the night, and the low staff numbers mean they can each have their own cabin.

Cece insisted they board together, however, and Makayla – swimming with guilt about not checking in on her friend more often – didn’t protest. Not even when Cece told her about the sheet masks, chicken Twisties and Britney Spears playlist she had lined up.

But the sleepover will have to wait; it’s time for Operation Payback.

A swell of heat welcomes Makayla when she steps inside their quarters.

Cece is curled up asleep on her bed in a Teletubbies nightie and bunny feet slippers.

She wears an angelic smile, undoubtedly dreaming about unicorns and rainbows.

Makayla throws a blanket over her. Might as well let her rest. Someone as pure as Cece will find it difficult to help execute the revenge Makayla’s after – she’s out for blood.

The moon is bright enough for Makayla to make her way over to Beau’s door without a torch.

She can’t risk being caught by Agnes, or any of the students – there’d be an outcry about the injustice of her meeting up with a guy.

They’re getting together to strategise, and she’s determined not to act weird around him.

Makayla’s an adult, after all. An adult who’s sneaking into a boy’s room to plan a prank on another teacher.

All the cabins are identical – modest, with two bunk beds, chequered curtains and a damp wood smell. Despite Cece’s friendly reminders, Makayla’s clothes are all over the floor, whereas Beau’s remain inside his bag. It’s safe to assume they’re neatly folded.

Beau takes a seat on his bed, where he’s pulled the sheets tighter than a ballerina’s bun.

He’s dressed for war in camo cargo pants – if Cece were here, she’d appreciate him getting into character.

Makayla doesn’t. It’s distracting. If Beau slips into army mode and instructs her to lie down or get on her knees, she’ll be saying ‘Yes, sir!’ in a heartbeat.

‘What have you come up with to get Agnes back?’ Makayla asks, wanting to keep on task and not think about Beau shouting orders. ‘Remember, there’s no such thing as a bad idea.’

‘Great, because I think you’ll get a kick out of this. Let’s text Agnes and tell her tomorrow’s schedule starts at eight instead of nine. She’ll get up an hour early. See, it’s brilliant.’ His face glows like he’s waiting for applause.

Makayla pinches the skin between her eyebrows. Oh dear. She’s recruited a rookie. ‘That sounds like a suggestion Cece would make.’

‘Hey!’ He fakes offence. ‘Got something better?’

‘Nothing legal.’ There’s a difference between harmless fun and going to prison. ‘We need to hit her where it hurts. What does she care most about?’

‘That’s easy, her cocker spaniels,’ Beau replies.

There are people who love dogs and then there’s Agnes, who pays to have portraits of her pets done every year. Makayla could dognap them, but it’s a six-hour round trip, and when she factors in cutting out letters from magazines to create a believable ransom note, it’s clear it’s too much effort.

‘No. There has to be something else.’ Makayla clicks her fingers as the thought comes quicker than her words. ‘Booze!’

‘Do you reckon she brought alcohol?’ Beau asks innocently.

‘What do you think is in her travel mug? Coffee? I wouldn’t light a match near her.’ A plan snaps into Makayla’s mind. ‘Let’s break into her room and steal it.’

Beau laughs. His laughter peters out as he realises he’s the only one who thinks she’s joking. ‘Breaking and entering? Whoa, that’s a tad extreme. You could get into big trouble.’

‘Me? I thought we were in this together.’ The buzz she’d felt earlier when he had her back fizzles out. Why can’t he bend the rules just once for her? ‘She humiliated me. Don’t you care?’

The corners of his eyes crease with concern. ‘Do you always have to get revenge when people hurt you?’

Makayla scoffs. Can’t a girl break into her workplace bully’s room and steal her stuff without it meaning anything? What a killjoy.

‘Fine then, Mr Serious. I’ll do this on my own.’

She’s two steps from his door when he says, ‘Wait! Let me grab a jacket.’

Makayla turns on her heels, twitching with excitement. ‘Attaboy. This will be fun. You’ll see.’

They wade through mud, boots squelching, to reach the back of Agnes’s sleeping quarters. Makayla loads Beau up with an armful of rocks she collected along the way.

‘In a few minutes, throw these at the back of her cabin as hard as you can. When she goes looking for the culprits, I’ll sneak in.

We’ll meet at the lake afterwards. If I’m not there in ten minutes, it means I’ve been captured.

If that happens, don’t be a hero. There’s no point in us both getting punished. ’

‘Should we synchronise our watches?’ he jokes.

‘Are you in or not, Shepherd?’

He sighs. ‘Yes, yes. Good luck.’

Makayla tiptoes to the front and crouches behind a bush.

The cool night turns each breath into a misty cloud.

Thud-thud - thud . Rocks smack against the timber cladding, loud enough for Agnes to hear, unless she’s already passed out drunk.

In less than a minute, light pours from her doorway, where she stands in a dressing gown.

Surprise, surprise, it has a dog pattern on it.

‘Hello? Who’s there? Show yourself!’ Agnes goes on a search mission around the back of the cabin, taking the bait.

Makayla bolts inside, fuelled by revenge and an unwavering belief that she can pull off this heist. She ransacks the joint, leaving no item unturned, only to find the contraband on top of the bedside table, in plain sight.

She nicks the bottle and sprints to her hiding spot, leaving a trail of muddy footprints.

Makayla watches Agnes return to her porch, casting a torch along the shrubs in front.

‘Come out, come out, wherever you are.’

Makayla rolls into a ball like an echidna, waiting her out. When the threats stop, she crawls along the ground, nostrils filling with dirt, then sprints to the assembly point.

‘I didn’t think we were going to make it out alive,’ Beau says, appearing from out of nowhere. ‘How does a woman that tiny move so fast?’

‘I don’t know, but look what I got.’ Makayla shakes the whisky. ‘Should we bury it? There’s no way we can take it back. If Agnes catches us with it, she’ll rejig the timetable and put us in Nine-E for eternity.’

They shudder. The boarded-up, windowless classroom makes a prison cell seem like a penthouse suite. Agnes has enough power and spite to recommission it.

‘Hang on a sec.’ Beau shines his torch over the metallic label. ‘This is good stuff. One celebratory sip won’t hurt.’

‘Look who’s a rebel now.’

He takes a swig and sighs like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had in his mouth. Makayla’s hit with a pang of FOMO.

‘Let me taste,’ she says.

Goosebumps ripple up her arm when she reaches for the bottle and his rough hand scratches against hers. The moonlight bounces off the lake, spotlighting his irresistible grin.

He knows. She knows.

The restless water slaps in time with her breath and they come together, entwining like an uncontrollable vine. Spicy notes of whisky dance on his tongue. He tightens the hold, shielding her from the biting wind until she breaks away for air. His lips are back on hers before she can inhale.

Their feet scrape along the earth, tangling in the roots as they shuffle towards a tree. He presses her against a hard trunk. She jumps, and he lifts, as though the idea hits them both at once. Her legs wrap around him.

‘We have to stop meeting like this,’ he says, penetrating the hush of the forest.

‘Shhh.’

Who cares if their situation is murky? She doesn’t have the self-control to stop. It’s been too long since she’s been in his arms.

Leaves rattle above, bark grates against her jacket, and their moans float into the night sky.

She tugs at his zip as he pulls at her top, removing layers with the urgency of a wild animal.

He’s brilliant at pre-empting where she wants to be touched and how hard.

But what makes his eyes roll back in his head? she wonders.

‘Put me down,’ she says, determined to find out.

Without hesitation, he obeys. ‘Everything okay?’

‘It will be.’ She falls to her knees, dragging his pants along with her.

She glides her hand over the bulge in his briefs and massages through the cotton. His legs spasm and he whispers her name, making her hungry for more. More flesh. More begging. More him.

Makayla’s hair covers the main show until Beau gently sweeps the long strands into a ponytail, eager to watch.

Second by second, he thickens inside her mouth and trembles with pleasure.

She goes deeper, and he moans. ‘Holy mother of God,’ flies out of his lips like an evangelist with a microphone.

Beau’s usually quiet and in control; she loves having this effect on him.

Who knew giving could be this amazing, and not feel like a chore?

His grunting gets throatier and spurs her on. She wants him to explode in her mouth.

They’re rounding up to the big finale when a thought appears. Clear. Loud. Persistent. She stops. Trust Makayla to have an epiphany mid-blow job.

Standing in front of a very confused Beau, she says, ‘I don’t want this to be over.’

She feels exposed, and not because she’s half-naked.

Makayla cares about Beau. Really cares. They’re not just friends, or coworkers.

They can’t be nothing either. He’s too important to her.

This is the first time she’s let herself even think those words, let alone say them.

The magnitude of it sits heavily in her stomach.

Beau’s face softens. He understands that she means beyond this moment. Hooking a finger into the front of her jeans, he pulls her closer. ‘Makayla I—’

They’re blinded by a harsh light, catching them in the act. Agnes?