Loser II || WlW

Twenty-Seven

Brittany tries to keep me in the cabin, wraps both of her hands around my wrist and holds me there. "Jordan, you can't see her like that." But I rip out of her grip and start toward the tree line anyway, the same sentence going on repeat in my head.

She could have stayed away from me.

Clementine was just some girl. Some girl who went to the same college as me. Some girl who wanted to make her boyfriend jealous. Who wanted to feel important and found validation through hookups with strangers.

Now she's hanging from the trees by her wrists, strung up to look like... What? Like she's flying?

My taste goes bitter.

Her cold eyes stare down at me.

My feet won't move forward. I'm stuck to the spot on the ground, my eyes glued to the image. My stomach folds in on itself. I gag, brace myself against the nearest tree.

Ron has joined us, joined me. He's looking up at the body with wide eyes. Despite his typical, don't give a shit attitude, he clamps a hand around his mouth and starts backing away.

"What... happened?" He's shouting. His voice sounds unnatural, far too big to be coming out of such a small, old man. "What is going on in this God-forsaken camp?"

I hurl behind the tree.

I don't notice Brittany's arrival until she's brushing loose strands of hair from my face. "Let's go inside," she says, once I can stand upright.

A mix of a cry and a whimper escapes my lips. "Brittany, she—"

"I know." She nods.

"Everyone around me—"

"This has nothing to do with you." She grabs my chin, makes me look at her. "J, listen to me. This has nothing to do with you," she repeats.

"I need everyone in the common room, now!" Ron barks.

A glance over Brittany's shoulder reveals the small crowd of campers gathering outside. Donna's face is pressed into Grace's shoulder. Roger is ushering his boy toward the common room. But as they pass the two figures toward the back, my blood runs cold.

Zachary and Chrissy

Except Zachary isn't looking at clementine's body. He's looking at me, his eyebrows pulled together like he's in pain. He lifts his hand to wave but must think better of it because instead of following through, he shoves it back into his jacket pocket.

I open my mouth to say something, as if he could hear me from this distance anyway, close it again.

Chrissy nudges him and they follow behind Ron.

"Come on." Brittany rests her hand in the small of my back and guides me toward the group. "Let's go see what Ron has to say."

The tension is thick when we get inside. Zachary and Chrissy are in the corner. Grace and Donna on the couch. Roger and his boy behind them. Ron in the middle of the room.

I stop and look at Brittany. "Where's your uncle?"

She shrugs. "He wasn't there when I went to see if he had my phone."

I'm thinking of a follow-up question that won't sound like I'm suspicious of her when Ron clears his throat.

"I need to know where everyone was this morning." He looks at Grace and Donna. "You two are up first."