Page 10 of The Woods

“Mom’s a lot of things, like totally neurotic and annoying, but she’s not selfish. She really thinks she made the right decision for all of us. Maybe you wanted to stay, but I couldn’t.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything in response, and she knows it’s because he hates when she defends their mom. When they get to the house, the thought of them going off to their own rooms makes Polly feel unbearably lonely. “I’m going to smoke a joint on the back deck. Do you want to keep me company?”

Quinn scrunches up his face in surprise. Then he scratches his head, something he always does when he’s thinking, like some cartoon character. “Only if I can smoke too.” His response shocks her. She never thought of him as the pot-smoking type.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Quinn. You’re only fifteen and Mom would kill me.”

Quinn puts out a hand to stop her. “You sound like Lucy right now,” he says, as if it’s some kind of insult.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. I didn’t mean it that way. She was protective, and that was nice and all, but I thought you were cooler than that. Like you’d get it that I want to try it. Wouldn’t it be better to do it first with you rather than alone or with some kids I don’t really know?”

Polly lets out a deep sigh. She hates being put in this position, but she’s the one who brought it up, and he’s not wrong. It’s safer to try it with her than anyone else. “Okay, fine, but if Mom finds out we’ll both be in major shit.”

“Good.” He bobs in place like a goofy kid. Like he’s trying not to pee his pants.

“All right then,” she says, pulling the joint and a lighter from the pocket of her jean shorts. “Let’s hope it mellows you out for both our sakes.”

They go around to the back of the house to sit on the deck. She sparks up and inhales slowly and gently. Passing the lit joint to her brother, Polly hears her dead sister’s voice in her head: And the Big Sister of the Year Award goes to… What are you going to introduce him to next? Acid?

Polly hums to drown out the voice in her head, ignoring the look Quinn gives her.

She and her sister were identical in looks but not in behavior. Lucy was the athletic one, the smart one, the good one. She smoked weed occasionally and drank at parties, but she never got out of control. Polly was the wild one, getting in trouble at school and at home, famous for her bad decisions. She was the one who took things too far, puked at parties, did whatever drugs were on offer, woke up in strange beds. Their parents had abandoned any expectations of Polly long ago and mostly tried to manage her self-made crises. Getting Quinn high for the first time was very much in keeping with her brand.

Quinn barely inhales and then coughs all the smoke back out. She laughs and gently takes the joint from him. “Like this,” she says, taking a long, smooth inhale and holding it in her lungs before exhaling.

“Why don’t you just get a pen like a normal person?” he asks, taking back the joint.

“I have one, but I prefer joints. I’m old-school. Now, try again.” Quinn mimics her and is able to hold in the smoke a few seconds before coughing. “That’s better,” she says encouragingly.

They pass it back and forth in silence for a little while, Quinn getting better as he goes. Polly glances over at him at one point and he’s leaning back in the deck chair, his arms loose at his sides, looking up at the stars in the sky. He looks truly relaxed for the first time in his life.

He’s probably going to be an addict now, she hears her sister say.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, interrupting the peaceful quiet between them so she can’t hear the voice in her head. “About the house.” She doesn’t want to, she knows her mom is going to freak on her, but she feels like she has no choice. Quinn is going to get to school on Tuesday and everyone will be talking about it.

He turns to her, a goofy, stoned grin on his face.

“It’s a crime scene, dude.”

Quinn works hard to pull himself out of his stoned stupor to sit forward in his seat. His brown eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and his mouth droops. He’s actually not that bad-looking when he relaxes, she thinks.

“Is that why those kids at the party called it the murder house?”

“So, you’ve heard.” Polly feels even more justified in revealing the secret. God, her mom is so stupid sometimes. She can’t believe how naïve that woman can be. “Yeah, that’s why. A woman named Justine Gordon murdered her husband and two sons here.”

Quinn clumsily slaps the arm of the chair. “I knew we must have gotten it for cheap.”

“Anyway, Mom didn’t want either of us to know, so don’t say anything to her.”

“Fuck that!” Quinn shoots back. “As if I’m not going to make her pay for this… subterfuge.”

Polly swats his arm with the back of her hand. “Don’t be such an idiot, Quinn. If you make her pay, she’ll make me pay and I’ll have to take it all out on you.”

Quinn slumps back in his chair and is quiet, staring out at the woods. Polly does the same, regretting her idea to get high with her fifteen-year-old brother. “I can’t believe we live in an actual murder house,” Quinn says after a few seconds of silence.

“Almost sounds like you think it’s cool.”