I nodded to him and Nic. Jace had treated Bryan like crap too, always calling him “nerd” and “loser nobody.” More than once he’d implied that the “loser nobody” comment was a dig at Bryan’s mom’s abandonment.
Bryan and I could both use an opportunity for a comeback. I had no idea if he would be coordinated or proficient at beer pong, but we’d give it our best shot.
It turned out Bryan was a beer pong pro. Bryan easily sank his first ball, causing Jace to drink. I’d always found the game kind of unsanitary and disgusting, but I was in this thing now, and my competitive side wouldn’t let me back down. I missed my shot, and it was Jace’s team’s turn. Jace scored, and Bryan, ever the gentleman, downed the first cup. Zach scored as well, so I picked up a cup and downed it.
The play continued back and forth, and I felt like I was hitting my stride and finally sinking a few shots. I really didn’t want to let Bryan down.
As I stepped up to the table on my next turn, though, I felt a strange lightness in my head. The ball slipped from my fingers, and I bent down to pick it up. When I righted myself, I had to grip the table. The room spun, little spots coloring my vision. My legs turned to jelly, and I felt myself losing my balance. The basement seemed darker...
I heard a harsh thunk in my skull, felt a sharp pain in my arm, and then everything turned black.
38
CADE
Ipulled into the parking lot that was now crowded with vehicles. Police cars, Fish & Wildlife, volunteers—everyone came out in full force for a search like this. I slide my Search-and-Rescue cap on my head, my wet hair already plastered to my face and neck.
“Who’s got jurisdiction?” I asked my friend Miles, a regular volunteer at these events. Covered neck-to-toe in tats, Miles looked like a scary guy, but he was amazing at tracking. We were lucky to have him on our volunteer team.
“Vermont State Police,” Miles responded. “Coordinating with Fish & Wildlife, Fire, and Sheriff’s department. It’s all hands.”
I nodded. This first hour was crucial.
I saw the mother’s car off on the shoulder, the scene of the accident. We had gathered in the parking lot of the nearby state park, assuming the boy had run for cover under the trees.
I approached the sheriff, who was consoling the emotional mother. I got right to the point, turning to her. “Have something of the boy’s?” I asked them.
The mother nodded and held out a tiny jacket. I took it from her and held it to Echo’s nose.
“Find,” I commanded Echo, his code-word to know we were starting our mission. Echo’s ears perked and his body went on alert under his reflective vest.
Our search area was vast, so the coordinator set up a grid search. All of the law enforcement officials and volunteers spread out to their assigned positions, carefully following orders to check each square inch with speed and efficiency.
My mind focused on the job, a mantra ofFind the boy, find the boy, find the boyrepeating in my head as I swiveled my head across the landscape and watched for clues that Echo had sensed a trail.
Meanwhile, inside, my heart thrummed to a steady beat ofBrooke, Brooke, Brooke.
39
BROOKE
My eyes felt like they’d been glued shut, and I struggled to peel them open. My head felt heavy, and my mouth felt fuzzy. I fought the urge to vomit at the taste of stale beer in my mouth.
Andwhat the hell was that beeping?
Finally, my eyes opened into slits. The lights were turned up too high—they made me feel my pulse in my temples. I started to shake my head to clear it, but was met with too much pain to follow through on the movement.
Fighting to orient myself, I realized I was slightly propped up, on a bed. These socks didn’t feel like mine. Not this itchy fabric covering my body, either.
Realization pinged. My senses sorted the details. The beeping, the itchy fabrics, the bright lights, the bed. I was in a hospital room.What. the. hell?
The reunion,I remembered. Volleyball. Cade, taking a call. Beer pong with Bryan. On an empty stomach, no less.
Jace’s taunts rang in my head. Why had I met his challenge?How stupid, Brooke. You know better.
A figure appeared at the doorway to the room, interrupting my mental beratement.
My eyes were struggling to focus, andOW, when I adjusted my body, pain radiated down from my shoulder to my wrist.
