Page 70 of People Like Us

“You and Andy were hooking up at church again?” she whispered harshly. “Lola, one day lightning is literally going to strike you dead.”

“Not at church,” I muttered. “Near church.”

“In the cornfield?” she grimaced.

I nodded once. Embarrassment prickled hot across my skin now on top of everything else. The image of myself half-undressed in the mud while something watched us from the woods made nausea twist through me all over again.

Emily leaned against the shelf beside me, lowering her voice further. “What, did you not use protection or something?”

I stared at the worn carpet while I spoke. “I saw someone.”

Her mouth popped open. “Who?”

“In the trees.” My fingers curled tighter around the book in my hands. “At first I thought maybe I imagined it, but they were just standing there.” I shook my head quickly. “Andy said it was probably a deer, but it wasn’t moving like one.”

Moonlight slicing through the field. That shape tucked between the trunks. Watching. I could still feel the adrenaline that had ripped through me when I’d sat upright.

Emily studied my face carefully now. “What did you do?”

Heat crawled up my neck. My whole body felt sticky with shame and sweat. I tugged at the square neckline of my ivory dress, the buttons going down the center seemed to be caging me in.

“I threw a rock.”

Emily blinked. “Okay?”

“I panicked.” The words came out louder than I intended, bouncing softly off the shelves around us. I lowered my voice immediately. “I hit him—it.”

The silence afterward felt enormous. I stared at the floor because I couldn’t bear to look at her.

“You don’t know that,” she said carefully.

“Yes I do.”

My chest tightened painfully. I could still hear the sound. That pain-filled grunt swallowed by the woods.

“I didn’t even think to look,” I continued, my words speeding up as panic clawed back into me. “Andy and I were fighting—”

“About the deer, or the sex?” Emily cut in.

I shook my head fervently. “August.”

“Of course,” she sighed. I gave her a pleading look, and she waved her hand encouraging me to go on.

“I thought maybe it was some creep trying to catch a peek but now Shannon’s missing and—” The sentence broke apart. I pressed the heel of my hand against my mouth hard enough to hurt.

Emily’s expression shifted then—not panic exactly, but concentration. Her brain moving quickly behind her eyes. She always seemed to work best under pressure. “Oh, Lola.”

“What if it was him?” I whispered. The thought had been eating through me for the last hour like acid.

“What if he was walking through the woods and I hit him and he got confused or fell somewhere or—” My breathing turned shallow again. “What if I killed him?”

Emily reached for my arms immediately, gripping them firmly. “You did not kill Shannon O’Kinzy with a rock.”

“But what if he’s hurt?” The words cracked embarrassingly in the middle.

Emily softened instantly then, her thumbs rubbing absently against the sleeves of my cardigan. “Hey. Look at me.” I forced myself to. “You are spiraling right now.”

“I know.”