Was there any life left in him at all?
I pop open the can of wine.
“Thanks.”
Meg comes up beside me and reaches for Levin. He flinches but only slightly.
“Sorry,” he says.
“Wanna go for a walk?” Meg’s tender, like she’s talking to a bullied camper.
Levin nods and starts to follow Meg toward the horse stables. But before he leaves, he looks at me again with those vacant eyes. He leans in, his mouth so close to my ear I can feel his breath.
“Whoever he was, he shouldn’t have died like that,” he whispers.
A shiver slinks up my spine as I watch Levin and Meg head into the darkness.Like what?I want to call after him. But there’s nothing Levin could say that would make this horrible reality go away. I look around the ring and remind myself this is the place where I’m wanted. Where I’m safe, no matter what.
Imogen skips off toward the back of the bonfire, where Tommy’s telling some dramatic story, talking with his hands. I look over to the basketball court and finally spot Ava, who’s talking to Aaron Jacobson, their foreheads turned toward one another. But I can tell Ava’s not really paying attention. She has that look in her eye that she always gets when she doesn’t give a shit—like when her mom asked her to say hi to all her old great-aunts at her bat mitzvah or when the group leaders would tell her to share her black-and-white cookies from Zabar’s after visiting day.
I take a sip of the wine, which is way too sweet. It burns as it slides down my throat. I watch Ava, waiting for her to turn to me,to ask me how the vigil was, to tell me why she was in my cabin last night.
She doesn’t though. She stays aloof and unaware, tipping the contents of her drink into her mouth and swallowing in one big gulp. Then she stands and motions toward the grass behind the basketball shed, a signal everyone knows meansI’m going to pee.
I chug the rest of my wine and follow her.
“You holding up okay, Goldie?” someone asks as I pass other counselors.
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“Man, sorry to hear about that townie,” someone else says.
My cheeks burn and I pull the hood of my sweatshirt up around my face until I reach the pee zone.
“Ava,” I whisper in the direction of where she’s currently squatting. “It’s me. Can we talk?”
Ava grunts an acknowledgment but she doesn’t say anything. Leaves crinkle under her feet as she shakes off and stands. She walks to me light like she’s a dancer even though we both know she quit ballet after two lessons and spent every hip-hop workshop sitting in the corner eating fistfuls of Cheetos.
“Ava.” Her face comes into view and her skin looks gray and ashen. She’s drunk. I can tell by the way her eyes won’t focus on me. Her head lolls to one side. She tries to walk past me, but I grab her wrist. “Why are you avoiding me?” I ask.
Finally, something snaps inside her, and Ava turns to face me, her hair falling around her cheeks. Her bottom lip quivers and her eyes flash fire. But then her face turns to stone again.
“I’m not avoiding you,” she says.
“Where were you last night?”
“What do you mean? I was sleeping.”
“You came into my cabin.”
Ava gnaws at a cuticle. “I always do that.”
“But where were you before? When Heller...”
Ava looks at me, concerned. “What are you asking me, Goldie?”
“I... I really want to know what happened to him. Did you see anything?”
Ava shakes her head, disgusted. “Honestly, it might be better if you didn’t ask any more questions about this.”
