"Guilty." Nick's hand shook free, moving to the center of my back. “This is what the kids were ready for.” He wasn’t wrong. “Same goes for you.”
I didn't have words. Didn't know how to explain the tightness in my chest or the way my throat closed watching Firefly Valleyset up camp in the middle of the green. For me. For the gremlins. For all of us.
I didn't try.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I refused to get emotional, even as Nick found a way past my defenses and landed an arrow in my chest. Glancing up, I turned to the clouds. I wasn’t worried about rain, just the one man in heaven who watched over me. The hair on my neck stood on end as the goosebumps raced along the tattoos on my arms. Pops was here with us, his voice clear as day. “That’s my boy.” Life had come full circle.
“Stop biting me,” Jeff shouted.
I snorted. “Let’s get the dogs started before Ronnie turns cannibal.”
The fire had burned down to embers by the time most of the adults retreated to their tents. Across the green, soft conversation hummed. Simon and Jason's murmurs, Walter's occasional snort-laugh at something Harvey said. Even the cackles and sound of plastic wrappers from Laurel and Lacie’s tent made the town—I cringed at the thought—cozy. I had laughed when Seamus said, “Me camping? I’m too old for that shit.” Everybody had wound down, all except for the gremlins. They were wide awake.
"I'm telling you, zombies are scarier than werewolves," Ronnie said from inside their tent.
"That's because you've never seen a werewolf," Jeff countered. "They're way faster."
"What about vampires?" Matt asked. I was glad to see he had shaken away some of the fear of sleeping over. We’ll see if he tried sneaking into our tent tonight.
I sat by the dying fire with Nick, our shoulders touching as we poked at the coals with sticks. The warmth felt good against the evening chill. Nick had been quiet since everyone settled in, his face lit orange by the dying embers.
"They're going to be at this all night," he said.
I stood, brushing ash from my jeans. "Give me a second."
I crossed the grass toward the boys' tent, their flashlights creating wild shadow puppets against the blue nylon. As I got closer, their debate grew louder. Why did they need to know if they could outrun a zombie on a bicycle?
I crouched beside their tent and scratched my fingernails slowly down the fabric.
The conversation stopped instantly.
I scratched again, lower, adding a soft growl.
"What was that?" Matt whispered.
"Probably just the wind," Ronnie said, but his voice had gone up an octave.
I scratched one more time, dragging it out.
"That's not wind!" Jeff hissed.
“Bears,” Matt whispered. He wasn’tnotwrong.
“It's me, you goofballs.” Who knew a trio of middle school students would make me smile? "Lights out. And if I hear any more zombie debates, I'm sending in the real bears."
Ronnie groaned. "That wasn't funny."
"Little bit funny," I said. "Now sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."
There was some shuffling, the click of a flashlight turning off, then Matt's voice, softer: "Night, Charlie."
"Night, gremlins."
I walked back toward our tent, where Nick waited. The green had settled into a peaceful hush, just the occasional murmur from other tents and the soft whistle of wind through the gazebo. I couldn't have imagined that coming to help Mum would bring me to this, tohim. A bearded man had helped ease the transition back into Firefly.
“That was just mean,” Nick said as I returned to my seat on the log.
