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I swallowed hard. The foil wrapper cold against my palm. And I kept walking, flustered and furious at the wrong person, because anger always felt like control to me. Until it didn’t.
CHAPTER 13
There were exactly three kinds of people at a campfire. The ones who roasted marshmallows into that perfect s’more squish perfection, the ones who burned them into gooey gross tar, and the little psychopaths who waited until everybody was comfortable eating their hot dogs and chocolate treats before telling a story about a woman being decapitated in the exact woods we were currently sitting in.
Naturally, I liked the third group best.
“No, no, no.” I pointed across the fire at Mason. “You fucked it up.”
He stared at me, seemingly offended. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did. You told us the killer had a hook before you told us he lost his hand. That ruins the reveal.”
“It’s a scary story, Mr. Carter. Not a real one.”
“It’s storytelling. Just because it’s fiction doesn’t mean it needs to be boring.” I pressed an exaggerated hand to my chest. “Have some respect for the craft.”
Across the fire, Darius groaned and my eyeballs immediately bounced to him. He was sitting in one of the old wooden camp chairs with his legs stretched towards the flames, wearing the gray sweatshirt he’d “borrowed” from me as penance for Lake Gate.
And, yes, if you were wondering: I was still damn proud of that. Maybe I shouldn’t have been. But meh… Growth was a journey, and I’d apparently missed the bus so I was walking.
Darius caught me staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” I shrugged.
“You’re smiling.”
“Am I not allowed happiness, Sir Warlord?”
“No… Not like that. It’s disturbing.”
I widened my sinister smile and eyebrow-wiggled at him. This shit always gave him the creeps, even as kids.
His glare narrowed. God, I loved irritating this man. Probably more than I should have. Definitely more than was healthy.
Trevor snorted into his hot chocolate when Dee squirmed from my clown cackle.
Darius pointed in Trevor’s direction. “Don’t encourage him, kid.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Trevor said, hiding his laughter in his hands.
“You laughed.”
“At him,” Trevor corrected.
I gasped. “Betrayal!”
Trevor lifted one shoulder up and down while taking another sip, and a few of the other kids started to giggle. It had taken almost the entire week to get Trevor comfortable enough to do that. Not just laugh, but laugh where other people could hear him. Especially his little crush Mason, who was as much of an oblivious idiot as Darius was at that age.
“Okay.” I rubbed my hands together and leaned forward. “Who’s next?”
Several kids immediately started talking at once.
“Me!”
“No, I’m going!”
“You already went!”