Oliver shrugs, though, and then hunches over his backpack so that his hair falls into his eyes. I frown, concern tightening in my belly.
“Hey,” I say, and when Oliver looks up at me, his expression nearly breaks my heart. No kid should look that fucking sad. I swallow down that concern, though, and force my voice to be as bright and cheery as I can. “If you ever want to go swimming, you can come dry off at my place before you head home, okay?”
Immediately, Oliver beams and nods his head furiously.
A few minutes later, the boat bumps up against Oliver’s pier, and he jumps out, leaving me to tie it off. “I have to go,” he signs. “I have to help Dad clean out the garage. Owen was supposed to do it—” He cuts himself off, curling his hands into little fists. “He never has to do chores.”
Discomfort settles in my chest again. “Well, if you want to come over afterward, we can split a Coke.”
Oliver grins. “Mom never lets me have Cokes. Or candy. Or chips. Or anything good.”
“Well, it’ll be our secret.”
Oliver waves goodbye, slides on his backpack, and takes off down the pier. For a moment, I just sit in the boat, watching as he runs up to the back door and flings it open and disappearsinside. There’s a half-second where I hear a raised woman’s voice, just before it slams shut.
I think of the way Theo is with him—the patience, the gentleness. No matter what kind of monster Theo might be, I can kind of understand why Oliver would rather spend time with him.
Eventually, I pull out of the boat, taking the oars with me. I lay them in the grass of Oliver’s yard, figuring that’s the safest place for them, even though his mother seems like the type who would complain. Well, let her.
The first thing I do when I get back home is check my phone. It’s nearly noon—almost four hours have passed since I went to the peninsula. There are also a few texts from Penelope, growing increasingly more worried.
Penelope
You around?
Call me please. Callie has an idea for talking to this guy.
Dude, don’t do this to me. ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE.
Guilt twists around in my stomach. We went through this about a month ago with Abi—she flipped out and went dark during one of our movie nights, and Penelope and I texted furiously back and forth before she finally responded and said she was fine. But I remember that sick feeling of worry in my stomach.
When I call Penelope, she answers on the first ring.
“Are you okay?” she says instead of hello.
“Definitely okay.” I take a deep breath. Should I tell her? I have to tell her. She’s my best friend. “I went over to the peninsula, where Theo Shorn lives.”
“What the fuck!” Penelope shrieks, which I expected. “And you didn’t take your phone? Jesus Christ, Chloe, what the hell were you thinking?”
“He didn’t do anything.” Well, that’s not entirely true, is it? “I mean, he didn’t do anything… bad.”
Silence fills the line.
“So what exactly did he… do?” Penelope says in a low voice.
Heat floods into my cheeks, and I walk over to my window and pull back the curtains to look out at the lake. At the woods, hiding Theo’s cabin.
“He kissed you again, didn’t he?” Penelope’s voice is flat. “Chloe, I know you think you understand what’s going on here, but he’s dangerous. I don’t care what he says to you, what he does, he’s?—”
“I fucked him.”
The words roll out of me before I can stop them, but it feels better, having them out there instead of choking me up from the inside.
Penelope gives me one second of peace before screaming, “You didwhat?”
“I fucked him.” It feels even better saying it the second time. “And he made me come. Twice.”
“I didn’t need to know that!” Penelope shouts. “Oh my god, Chloe, you don’t—I’m coming out there, okay? And I’m bringing Callie. You can’t stay there.”
