SEVEN
While I tied colorful pool floats down in my truck bed, Abbie deposited two coolers, a stack of Frisbees, an oversized badminton set, and a tug-of-war rope.
“What is this, field day?” I asked as I climbed into the driver’s seat.
Slathering sunscreen on her arms, Faith offered an indifferent shrug. “I already tried to rein her in. Good luck.”
“I thought games would be fun,” Abbie said. “Oh, here comes Juliana.”
She didn’t sound enthused. Abbie was a self-labeled attention sponge and professional flirt, but Juliana was the only person I’d ever met who could handily beat Abbie at her own game. Abbie didn’t like it.
Juliana’s long black hair glided behind her like a smooth stream of espresso as she swept toward the truck, wearing a dramatic, ankle-length skirt over her swimsuit. She used her phone as a mirror to smooth down her perfectly shaped eyebrows, her nails manicured a blinding fluorescent orange.
When she climbed in with Lindsey and set her beach bag on the seat, I heard glass clinking around in its depths. This night might be a little more unruly than I’d anticipated.
I waited until everyone had buckled—Juliana finally gave in with a purse of her lips—before pulling out of my driveway. As we picked up speed, my hair blew around in the warm wind and stuck to Faith’s sunscreened shoulders.
“Did y’all hear about the dead animals?” Faith asked, wrinkling her nose. “This, on top of the stones in your yard…”
“Did you know the Travel Channel is thinking of adding San Solano to a ‘Haunted Tour of the South’ feature?” Lindsey asked. “Someone is screaming for attention.”
I chewed on my lip. This new intel tracked with my latest theory.
“Ew!” Juliana gasped, plugging her nose. “What is that?” A second later, the smell hit me. Unpleasant odors were common around town—skunk spray, roadkill, manure—but the smell that wafted through the cab was downright offensive.
“It’s just the poultry litter some of the local farmers use as fertilizer,” Lindsey explained. Weird, how she’d had that locked and loaded.
Juliana grimaced. “It smells like dead bodies.”
Lindsey stiffened and fell quiet.
The stench faded as we drove from San Solano to the nearby national forest. I noticed Bryce’s Jeep not far behind us, and behind him, Levi’s truck. A car full of junior girls sped past us on the one-lane road. “How many people did you invite?” I asked Abbie.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Abbie said. “Everyone but Grayson has already pitched in their ten dollars, so we have more than enough food.”
When we reached the nearest campground and parked by a pavilion at the swimming area, the growl of the engine gave way to insects singing and a breath of wind in the pines. The grass faded to sand at the shore, and the water looked clean and dark, glittering in the sunlight.
Loud crooning drowned out the peaceful sounds of nature as the others arrived. The evening’s playlist, a victim of Grayson’s questionable taste, would consist of songs about tight blue jeans, trucks, exes, and beer.
“Ugh, bro country,” Lindsey said, echoing my thoughts.
I unlatched the tailgate and stepped into the bed to get the coolers. “Can I help?” Levi asked.
“Sure,” I said, and hoisted one down to him.
Grayson bounded up to Lindsey and flipped his blond hair out of his eyes. He skipped the courtesy of offering to help and tried to extract a box from her hands.
“These are working arms, you know,” she said without relinquishing.
“Just trying to be a gentleman.” Grayson shrugged off a look of defeat and walked away. He and Lindsey had history, if attending her quinceañera together and flirt-fighting for three years could be called a history.
Lindsey hefted the box toward the pavilion with little effort even though it contained a heaping bag of charcoal and heavy rocks to weigh down the tablecloths. Abbie set up the games and Grayson mercilessly cranked up the volume on his playlist while smearing sunscreen on his face.
I shed my tank and shorts, stripping down to my aqua bikini. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Levi’s expression was pointedly neutral, and he seemed suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. He ran them through his hair, crossed them over his chest, and finally let them fall to his sides.
Smug, I grabbed a lime-green tube and waded into the water with Lindsey and Faith.
“Guys, no one help Lindsey if she drowns!” Grayson said. “She can do everything herself. Hashtag feminism.”
“Don’t be a dick, Grayson,” Lindsey said.
“You’re so touchy today!” he exclaimed.
“You wish,” Lindsey fired back with a killer smirk. Everyone burst into taunts and laughter at Grayson’s expense. He paddled away in mock injury.
“So, what do y’all think about the creepy stuff that’s happening?” Bryce asked. “You’re not behind any of it, are you? Because I think the animal dismembering would be a bridge too far.”
“No!” Abbie splashed him for emphasis, hitting Levi instead. Levi gave her a warning look, cupped his hands, and sent a squirt of water up her nose. She playfully retaliated by trying to push his head under the water. He laughed and slung her over his broad, bare shoulders, where she flailed and fake-screamed until he tossed her over his head.
My chest tightened. Was something happening between them? Was that why Levi had gone cold at his house earlier? Since Abbie flirted indiscriminately, it was hard to tell when something meant more. Levi had always been like a cousin to her, but that chaste affection could turn on a dime.
That was why I hadn’t told the twins about the kiss, or the quiet that followed: I didn’t want their defensiveness of me to sour an old friendship. Faith, especially, was doggedly loyal, even more so than Lindsey, whose sympathy could hit a brick wall when some harsh sense-talking was needed. If I’d told Faith, she would have taken up the banner of my cause and dragged Levi back to San Solano by the ear to make him explain himself.
Vanessa paddled by on a float. There were gauze bandages taped to her shoulder, clinical white against her warm-toned brown skin. Lindsey had covered her cuts with a bandage today, too, and the wounds were dressed the exact same way.
“Bryce, are you accusing people again?” Vanessa asked, tightening the floral scrunchie that bound her springy curls. A leather wrap bracelet with an ivory cameo pendant dangled from her wrist, even in the water. I’d never seen her without it. “He really wants to get to the bottom of this. He asked the old lady at the gas station if she’d ever decapitated a deer.”
“She said ‘about five hunnerd!’ Apparently, she used to be a taxidermist, so dead end there.” Bryce shrugged. “But get this: when we mentioned the smell in town, she was like, ‘That ain’t the farms. It’s them satanic women boilin’ blood.’”
Everyone laughed. Vanessa rolled her eyes, and then caught me glancing at her bandages. She froze and averted her gaze.
“I guess I should start grilling,” Lindsey said abruptly. “Nat, you want to help?”
I wanted to bronze the sandy-white tan lines from my track uniforms and hear more about what people thought of the dead animals, but I stood up and waddled toward shore, the inner tube stuck around my middle like a tutu.