I remain standing, still taking in the way Firecrest looks at night from above. Hundreds of lights lining the labyrinth of pathways are scattered throughout, and I can just about decipher the different areas from the ways they’re lit. The bold, neon lighting in a far corner indicates the Light Teller’s area, with a more cosy and warm glow sitting quietly next to it, which must be The Warren. Connecting all the areas in my mind as I look out, the reality of its enormous size strikes me. The festival stretches out across my entire eyeline and seems to extend even further with the darker camping areas surrounding it on all sides. It could be a city. I find it hard to believe that I’ve journeyed across the entire space so many times now, and that I’ve become so well acquainted with it this quickly. It almost seems to beckon to me, with yellow and white spotlights pulsing into the sky and dancing across the clouds.
‘It doesn’t even look real,’ I say, my voice quiet.
‘No, it doesn’t.’
I toss my backpack down before sitting down next to Elliot on the other side of the flagpole. My lungs start to feel fully recovered as I lean my shoulder against it.
Wasting no more time and hoping to avoid chit-chat, I sit up straight to start our brainstorming process on the next clue. We both open up our maps and the line-up on our phones to scan for any hints at all that might link to, of all fucking things, lobsters.
With a delighted gasp, I find an act on the line-up called ‘Sea Girl’ who is playing at The Devil’s Hand at half-past three tomorrow.
‘But that doesn’t match up with the time they gave us,’ Elliot retorts.
‘It’s something though. That can’t be nothing,’ I say, hopeful.
He hums unconvincingly and goes back to looking at his phone, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
After numerous theories and ideas that lead nowhere, I groan with frustration and rub my hands over my face, then lie back against the grass with a hopeless thud.
‘Maybe it wasn’t a lobster after all,’ I say despairingly. ‘Could it have been a crab? We should have taken a picture of it.’
‘It was a lobster, Nora,’ Elliot responds flatly.
I snort at the absurdity of this conversation. ‘You’re very confident about your freshwater aquatic animals, aren’t you.’
‘Yes. Lobsters are saltwater creatures, though.’
I bite down on a grin. ‘Oh God, shutup.’
He chokes out a laugh, quickly snapping me out of my sulky mood. I smirk and look up at him.
‘Sorry.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he says.
‘No, you’re right. I’m not.’
I decide to give myself and my brain a small break. It is a relief that we’ve somewhat slipped back into the familiar territory of pettiness for the moment.
‘At least we have the drumstick if this hunt doesn’t work out,’ I mumble, resting my eyes briefly. Elliot sighs next to me.
‘Yeah, for one of us.’
I decide to mercifully ignore him and enjoy the feel of the cool grass against my neck instead.
‘Right, we need a break and I need a drink. Do you want anything?’
I crack one eye open to see him peer down at me questioningly.
‘Lemonade, please?’ I ask, shooting him an angelic smile.
He nods and walks away without a word towards a tiny, hillside cabin.
Given our brief respite, I take the opportunity to close my eyes and focus on the sounds of muted conversation around me.
Without warning, the image of Elliot’s heavy eyes drinking me in flashes in my mind. My eyes fly open again.
Brilliant. Thrilling. I’m so excited to be haunted by this kiss forever.
