The room froze.
My soul left my body.
Louie bleated victoriously around the fabric and began trotting in circles like a prizefighter displaying his winnings.
“Sienna, are those his?”
I scowled and shook my head. “Why are you asking me?”
“Don’t pretend you haven’t seen his,” Violet teased.
I marched toward him, grabbing the waistband as he attempted to bolt away. “Drop it! Louie, DROP IT!”
He instead performed a full-circle victory spin, dragging me with him as we went toward the cabins.
“Oh, this is incredible, my mom said, chuckling.
Fiona wiped tears from her eyes as I ran after the goat. “Symbolism! The goat has stolen her man’s underwear! The prophecy is complete!”
“There is no prophecy!” I yelped.
Dad tried to be helpful. “Louie, buddy, son, pal, maybe don’t abduct people’s intimate apparel—?”
But the goat bleated like an operatic villain and took off toward Carson’s cabin.
I sprinted after him.
Behind me, I heard Fiona shout, “Don’t let him eat the symbolism!”
I ignored her as Louie made a sharp left toward the door, and I lunged, grabbed hold again, and finally—finally—wrestled the boxer briefs free.
“I got them!” I shouted triumphantly.
Then I looked down at what I was holding.
Black. Soft. Definitely Carson’s.
My face burned so hot I worried the fabric might combust.
Beck caught up behind me, panting. “You okay?”
“No,” I said honestly. “Not even close.”
He chuckled, leaning on his knees. “Well. If that’s not a metaphor for your emotional life, I don’t know what is.”
“Do you think Louie pulled them out of Carson’s laundry?” I asked, horrified.
“Probably.”
The door to Carson’s door was ajar, and Beck opened it, revealing Carson’s other duffel and some other personal items.
He really was coming back, and Louie wanted me to feel better.
“Now this means that Carson will come back and discover that his underwear is missing.” Beck shook his head
“And I doubt he’ll buy blaming the goat.”
Beck chuckled as I pressed both hands to my face and accidentally pressed Carson’s boxer briefs with them.
