The Key to Anchor Lake ✓

14 : Blaire

B L A I R E

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I'm chewing a mouthful of the most incredible chocolate-covered chocolate cheesecake, a mug of fresh coffee at my elbow, when Jacob fixes me with a surprisingly hard stare, the kind that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

"How familiar are you with the history?" he asks, after I've told them the basic, stripped-down version of why I'm here – I didn't mention Mum this time, the third time today I've had to explain my appearance in Anchor Lake. All I said was that I came here to stay with my aunt for a bit, and Sukie gave me a soft smile that made me feel like we were the only two in the room.

"Everything I know is from The Anchor Lakey," I say. "I haven't been able to get the book itself yet, but I really want to read it for myself. I'm familiar with the tragedies and the pattern, though, and the idea of the town being, what, cursed?"

Jacob nods to himself, hands together, index fingers tapping pursed lips. "So you know that according to Mary S Nesbitt, or at least the timeline she wrote about, we're due a tragedy this year. Pretty shit time to move here."

I shrug. I totally agree with him. I think any time to move to Anchor Lake is a shit one. "I didn't have much choice."

This kid makes the most intense eye contact. I can't hold it. I have to look away, dropping my gaze to my coffee and the tiny air bubbles that pop on the surface when I stir it.

"What do you reckon's gonna happen?" he asks. Sukie shoots him a sharp look but his eyes are fixed on me. Something about him sets me on edge and I want to tell him to take it down a notch, but I don't want to land myself with a bitchy reputation on day one.

"Well, my mum died two weeks ago so I think I've had enough tragedy for the year," I say, dragging my eyes up to meet him. There's the slightest twitch of his forehead. The others are stunned into silence, their side conversations flitting away; I've made it uncomfortable. No-one likes to hear about dead parents. No-one knows how to react.

Except Jacob who, undeterred, asks, "What happened?"

"Jacob, Jesus," Cat says. "What's your problem?"

"She drowned," I say. Sukie gasps. She didn't know that detail either. It hurts to say, but I want to put Jacob in his place; I can't bear his smug confidence and I've only known him for ten minutes.

"How come?" he asks. "Was she a bad swimmer?"

Fucking hell, this kid needs a slap.

"Jacob, I swear to god," Niko says, getting out of his seat.

"She was an Olympic medallist and she swam the English Channel five times," I say, teeth gritted, heart choking. "She had a heart attack in the pool."

That shuts everyone up. No-one knows what to say. Even Jacob doesn't have a retort for that. Maybe it's the tears in my eyes that shut him up, or his conscience kicked in and he realised he was being a dick.

"Sorry for your loss," he says at last. I nod at him.

"Me too."

The others share their sympathies and I sit there awkwardly accepting it, never knowing quite what to do when I'm flooded with so many sorries and kind words. All it does is remind me how gone Mum is, how she's never coming back, how this is my life now.

Sara Watanabe's cheesecake pops help, if only because they're so delicious that when I take a bite, all I can think about is the flavour. A ball of sweet, creamy cheese is coated in a buttery biscuit crumb, which has been dipped in milky chocolate and sprinkled with crushed digestives. It's heaven on a stick, though paired with a sweet white coffee, it's a bit of a sugar overdose after a couple of weeks of hardly eating.