Steady

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

After my initial mortification wears off, Jay acts as if nothing ever happened. He takes my hand and we join our friends in splashing and playing like children, and I'm able to truly relax for the first time in days. It's been so long since a guy has looked at me with anything but pity or revulsion in his eyes that I didn't know how to react, and ended up reading him completely wrong.

Once we're all either too tired or too drunk to remain in the water, we venture back to the campsite, resembling a parade of wet rats. Jay stays at my side, continuing to flirt and make small talk over smores and beer. He's surprisingly easy to talk to, and soon the foreboding memories of his image in my dorm room wash to the back of my mind. Between his charming presence and my steady buzz, I forget all about 'Jake' and his vague message.

When the campfire turns to smoldering embers in the wee hours of morning, Jay helps his buddies soak and stomp the glowing sticks into ash before bidding me goodnight and heading off to his own campsite.

I breathe deeply, watching his tall frame retreat in the darkness as I tiptoe toward our tent.

"Tell us everything, you hoochie!" Sydney barks as soon as I zip the door closed.

"Nothing to tell," I say, smiling as I maneuver my way around a snoring Veronica.

"Liar," Nora says with a yawn. "You two are freakin' adorable. Seriously."

As I slip into my brand-spankin' new sleeping bag, I insert my earbuds and turn to my favorite Spotify channel, not caring that I'll use the rest of my battery before I fall asleep.

"Goodnight," I say sweetly before turning my back to the girls.

"You suck, Preston," Sydney grumbles. "You suck so hard."

I wave over my shoulder instead of answering. She can wait until the end of the weekend to interrogate me.

With Pentatonix blasting in my ears, I flip through images of Jay's smile, his teasing eyes, the way his hand held tightly to mine as he helped me up the hill from the shore. But as the music changes, I also remember those same eyes, hollow and cold, staring at me in the bathroom mirror. The same pale skin. Same dark hair. Same smirk as he turned and melted into the shadows. Maybe it was a premonition. Some kind of clairvoyant vision.

That's ridiculous. It's nothing.

My mind starts to drift into dangerous waters, so I shut the lid on that particular thought process and close my eyes. It's not long before my muscles relax and sleep claims me.

***

There's one thing people never tell you about camping in the summer: If you wake up after eight in the morning, you're going to be sticky with sweat, sore from the hard ground, and feel like you're suffocating from the hot air gathering in your tent-turned-crock-pot.

Stumbling over the girls in an effort to get free, my joints crack painfully as I fumble with the zipper of the door, eventually making a hole big enough to squeeze through and make my escape.

Breathing in the cooler, less-stale air, I stretch out to my full height and take in the shimmer of sunlight stretching across the surface of the water. It's beautiful; one of those things you don't often get to see so you cherish it while you can.

Most of the other tents are still closed. I figure most of the party-goers will probably sleep until noon if they don't get cooked alive first.

The few people that are awake don't seem to be firing on all cylinders just yet. They fumble through coolers and mumble incoherent sentences to no one in particular. Operating in zombie-mode, they barely register my presence as I tip-toe through the wet grass and make my way to the bathroom.