Jen crossed her arms defiantly. “It’s been nearly four years. We’re not dumb teens anymore. It’s time to move on.” She gestured to the cabin and the surrounding trees. “If we’re saying goodbye to this place, we have to let bygones be bygones.”
Patrick, Jason, and Mikey looked suitably chastened, but Tiffany’s lips had thinned into a hard line. That girl could hold on to a grudge as tightly as Jason could carry a football. Jen glanced in the direction Carrie had run off. “Shit. Someone should go after her. It’s pretty dark in the woods.”
“Youcan go,” Tiffany said, stabbing a finger at Jen’s chest. “I don’t have anything to say to that bitch.”
Patrick padded to Carrie’s hatchback, opened the door, and turned off the headlights. Jen’s retinas thanked him. Now the only light was the gentle glow from inside the cabin.
He shut the car door and slowly scratched his head. Jen couldalmost see the gears turning in his head as he attempted to recalibrate his plans. “If she’s staying, she can have Freddy’s room. It’s probably better if he sleeps in his van anyway. He’ll stink up the sheets.”
Bright spots suddenly danced in front of Jen’s eyes. Were they afterimages of Carrie’s headlights? But then she heard the rumbling cough of a very old, very large vehicle.
“Speak of the devil,” Jen said.
Freddy’s white van barreled down the road, kicking up clouds of dust in its clumsy wake. “Jesus,” Mikey said.
“Is he high?” Jen said wryly.
“Guys—” said Jason. “We should—”
They all scattered as the van careened into the driveway and screeched to a stop, just inches from the veranda railing. The driver’s-side door flew open and Freddy nearly fell out of his seat, the van rocking from the force of his braking.
Jen had joked Freddy was high, but he’d never been careless enough to drive under the influence before. She and the others ran to him, Patrick sneezing as he got close. He’d always been sensitive to the sandalwood incense Freddy burned constantly to mask the scent of weed.
“Freddy? Are you okay?” Jason asked.
Freddy didn’t seem to hear him. His normally half-lidded eyes were round as saucers under the edge of his knitted hat. “Holy shit,” he said, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. It was hard to take a goofball like Frederick Min seriously, but the frisson of unease Jen had felt on the dock crept down her spine again. That feeling that something she didn’t understand was on the verge of happening, and she was powerless to stop it.
“Holy shit,” Freddy said again. “I saw the Slasher.”
4
Tiffany
Nearly getting run over by Freddy’s van wasn’t the first time that evening Tiffany Podemski regretted not turning the Jeep around and hightailing it back to her parents’ house. No, the first time was when she’d seen Jason standing in front of the cabin, his normally open face shut down, like he was a totally different person.
In the months after their breakup, their paths had crossed only at their college’s football games. From a distance, he’d seemed like his usual self. The popular athlete everyone had crushed on in high school, who’d leveraged those skills to win a college football scholarship. Naturally, Tiffany had enrolled in the same school and joined the cheer squad to keep an eye on him.
On the field, he was a good-natured team player who blushed and aw-shucked under praise. Since their split she’d ached with regret every time he scored a touchdown, because that wonderfulguy had been hers. Her perfect match. She was a queen and he was a king.
So the contrast with sullen present-day Jason was a shock. But it was a good reminder he actuallyhadbecome a totally different person in the past year. Since Christmas, Tiffany had sensed him withdrawing from what made him reliable, easygoing Jason Ackerman, shriveling away from that outer shell like an overcooked mussel. Getting him to open up about what was bothering him had only triggered a white-hot rage she’d never witnessed in all their years of dating.
Except in his father. When she’d pointed that out, Jason had practically gone nuclear.
That was when she’d told him to take his toothbrush and spare boxers from her apartment and go back to his dorm room. And when that cute TA had leaned in closer than he should have while discussing her last psych paper, she’d closed the distance. Dating someone as smart and mature as Clive should make Jason come to his senses. She needed to keep Jason well-trained, after all, if they were eventually going to get married.
The second time Tiffany regretted not turning around was when Carrie Zhao had climbed out of that hatchback. She couldn’t believe Jen had reached out to the Virgin Carrie. Jen’s impulsive streak was a hoot and a half, but this was mind-blowingly irresponsible. It had been irresponsible—and disrespectful!—for Jen to have encouraged Carrie to pose in that photo in the first place, the photo that had sent a wrecking ball through Cedar Lake High. And to think Tiffany had actually liked Carrie once and thought she was a nice girl.
And now Tiffany was regretting this reunion weekend a third time, as Freddy gawked at them with bloodshot eyes. She liked a good drama, but she’d reached her limit, thank you very much. She didn’t need a freaking stoner making things worse with his paranoia.
“I saw the Slasher,” he gasped again.
Mikey spoke first. “Are they showing the reboot at the Rialto now?”
Freddy straightened, smoothing down his rumpled hoodie. “I’m not talking about the movie, man! I mean the actual Slasher! Just when I started down the side road—boom! There he was, standing in front of me in his mask and plaid jacket! He came out of nowhere! And then he disappeared just as quickly!”
Each statement spilled out faster and more high-pitched than the last, as if someone had pressed a fast-forward button on his voice. Everyone’s faces melted from concerned to neutral, and in Mikey’s case, outright amusement.
“Seriously, Freddy?” Tiffany said. She wished Patrick hadn’t invited him. She knew he wouldn’t have changed. Freddy had been fun to party with in high school, but they weren’t teenagers anymore. His family was smart—his parents were accountants and his brother was at med school—and it drove her nuts that he refused to stop smoking pot and just apply himself. Finish writing that screenplay he’d been talking about for as long as she’d known him. But since he was the only one of them who still lived in Cedar Lake—if scrubbing toilets at the Rialto could be calledliving—it would’ve been rude to not include him.
