A giggle burst from Tiffany’s lips, and then her shoulders started to shake. The lake’s surface was only at her knees now, and the night air rushed in to chill her wet skin. Her eyes burned and stung from the water running down from her scalp, and then she realized she was crying. Crying and shaking like a leaf in the wind, with Carrie of all people stopping her from blowing away.
Jen came running down from the cabin with a couple of towels. Tiffany’s feet hit sand and she would have collapsed if not for Carrie. Jen threw the towel over Tiffany’s shoulders and Carrie let go of her at last.
Freddy popped out of the cabin, the giant bag of chips under his arm. Jen handed Carrie the other towel. Shockingly, Carrie was only in her tank top and a pair of white bikini underpants, near-transparent from the water. That was a change. In high school, Carrie had been the kind of girl who got dressed in a bathroom stall for gym class. Now she plucked her discarded jeans and hiking boots off the scrubby grass, not caring that everyone could see her sticking her panty-clad ass in the air. But then the whole town had already seen her naked. She had nothing left to hide.
“Let’s get you by the fire,” Jen said, hustling Tiffany to the fire pit and sitting her down on a boulder.
“What happened?” Patrick asked, jogging toward them with Freddy trailing after him. Patrick collected her clothes and phone from the dock. Freddy offered the bag of chips. She shook her head. There was no room for food alongside the dread in her gut.
Jason and Mikey appeared, drawn by the commotion, Mikey striding out from the back door and Jason from around the front. Mikey had showered and put on a clean polo shirt—to impress Carrie, obviously—but Jason’s bare chest glistened with sweat and his hair was tousled and damp. He held the axe over his shoulder. Clearly they’d interrupted his log-splitting.
Tiffany opened her mouth and discovered she couldn’t form words properly. “S-someone tried to d-drown me.” Her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. “He g-grabbed my ankles when I was swimming and tried to hold me under.”
The others gave cries of shock and dismay. “You’re shitting me,” Jen said, looking out across the lake.
Everyone followed her gaze, except Tiffany, who glanced at Jason. Her body trembled, though not from the chill. Was he sweaty, or was his hair wet from swimming? No, that was crazy. Jason would never hurt her.
The old Jason would never hurt her. She didn’t know aboutthisJason.
Carrie bit her lip. “I didn’t see anyone out there,” she said almost apologetically.
Tiffany swallowed. Jen rubbed her back. The fire was comforting, as was the ring of concerned friends around her. Warmth slowly seeped back into her body, inside and out. They’d all come to her aid. Even Carrie.
Now that her initial panic had died, she realized how silly it sounded. Why would anyone try to kill her? And a man wearing a mask underwater? It was like something out of a horror movie. She’d gotten tangled up in seaweed, and after Freddy had claimed he’d seen the Slasher, her brain had jumped to this ridiculous conclusion.
She gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah. I must’ve imagined it. I got caught up in some seaweed and freaked out.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right,” Carrie said.
Tiffany returned the girl’s hesitant smile. “Me too.”
Jen still had her head turned toward the lake, brow crumpled in a frown, as if she were looking for someone. A shiver ran down Tiffany’s back, even though she’d finally warmed up. “What is it?”
Jen turned back to her, the frown vanishing so quickly Tiffany wondered if she’d imagined it. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
5
Carrie
Carrie toweled her hair dry by the fire, glad she’d cut it for the summer. It was much more practical than her old hairstyle, and a sign she was ready for change. Her therapist had congratulated her when she’d shown off the new cut at their last appointment. It was a step toward moving on from the past. A symbolic trimming of the dead weight that had been holding her back.
Jen had started on a second beer, clinking her bottle against Carrie’s. That little action comforted Carrie. She felt welcome, like she was part of the club again. Thankfully, everyone was pretending she hadn’t run into the woods like a ninny when she’d first arrived. She’d been full of resolve in the car, but seeing Jason had stolen her courage. His face had lived rent-free in her head for so long, it was jarring to see him in the flesh again. Like meeting a celebrity in person when you’d only ever seen them on TV.
She was grateful to Jen for coming after her and cajoling her to come back. “Fuck ’em,” Jen had said, reinforcing the reason Carrie had come. She couldn’t control how others felt about her, but she could control her own feelings about herself.
Her new attitude was working. She hadn’t thought twice about stripping down when Tiffany had screamed for help. Carrie had learned you could be embarrassed only if you let yourself be, something she wished she’d known four years ago when the photo—ThePhoto—had been shared all over school. The whole incident would’ve blown over if she’d kept her head high. If it had been Jen or Tiffany in her position, they would’ve flaunted their audacity and everyone would’ve moved on when the next person did something outrageous.
Therapy had helped Carrie realize she shouldn’t blame herself for having been so mortified. It made sense she would’ve reacted that way, with her mother’s unhealthy obsession with sin and shame. Having audiences shoutVirgin!at her, night after night at the Rialto, had also messed with her head.
In a way, the incident had been a good thing. Carrie had fled town and moved to Vancouver to live with her father for the rest of her high school senior year. Mama had been furious, if only because the child support payments had been cut off. But Carrie had been able to start over again. Without any scrutiny. Literally. Her dad and stepmom were kind, though a little absent. They had Carrie’s younger brothers to take care of, and Carrie was well-behaved and practically an adult. That lack of supervision suited her just fine. She’d had enough judgment from Mama and her classmates at Cedar Lake High.
Carrie blotted her face with the damp towel, and when she lowered it, Mikey—no,Michael—was staring at her, like he used to in high school. It was kind of sweet. He was cute—not as handsome as Jason, obviously—but he shared the same glacial blue eyes, and he’d matured a lot these past few years. Just as she had.
She smiled shyly at him. “Hi, Michael.”
He gave her an awkward half grin, a flush rising up his neck. Okay, maybe he hadn’t changed that much. But hopefully he’d changed in the ways that counted.
Speaking of change, Tiffany had calmed down. Carrie was surprised it hadn’t taken that long. Tiffany had always liked to position herself at the center of any drama. That was what had put her on top of the high school pecking order when they were teens.
