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His eyes draw down to my hand then he clenches his fist. “I know you won’t talk to her in public.”

Shit, is that why she’s mad at me? Because she thought I was hiding her? Our hiding was more to protect her than it was for me.

Coach shifts his attention to Remy. “And you, boy. I don’t know what the hell to do with you, son.”

Remy scoffs and crosses his arms.

“Did you kill that Jenkins kid like everyone thinks you did?”

Remy’s head snaps up. “What? No?”

I bark out a laugh, but the look Coach gives me is anything but funny.

“Well then, get your ass out of that damn library and train some more, kid. Get out of your funk. You two are my talent, this town’s treasure. No one can beat you two so don’t let whatever is going on with you ruin this. You need each other, and we have a chance to win this year—as a team. All three of you need to get your heads out of your asses and win.”

He reaches down and grabs something from his bag—a bottle of something from the looks of the brown paper bag. My eyes perk up.

“What’s that?” Remy asks, eyeing him carefully.

“Back in my day, this is how we used to get over things. Good ole fashion whiskey. Take this bottle, go out to the bush, and drink the whole goddamn thing between the three of you until it’s gone and hash out whatever is keeping you two apart. When you get back to school on Monday, make sure whatever shit is going on between you two boys is fixed.”

Remy and I both stare at each other for a few tense seconds, both of us looking confused, but it’s Bax who grabs the bottle.

“Far out, Coach.”

Coach stomps off toward the school. “And you, Baxter. Cut that damn hair,” he calls from over his shoulder.

“Not a chance, Coach,” he calls back.

The three of us have shit-eating grins on our faces, and we blow this popsicle stand before Coach changes his mind.

TOMMY

“Where are we going, dude?” Bax asks as we walk into the forest like Coach told us to. I told them I’d drive us to the park entrance. I ditched my car, knowing we were going to get pissed drunk and didn’t want to have the temptation of crashing it.

Remy pulls at the collar of his leather jacket, takes a swig of the bottle, and hands it to me.

“A little farther,” he answers and keeps trudging forward.

Bax takes the bottle I hand him. “Good,” he says. “This place is tripping me out, man.”

Remy changed back into his dark ripped jeans and heavy boots. Bax and I are in our letterman jackets. It feels weird wearing the jacket around Remy, like that’s part of the reason he won’t be friends with me anymore. Like he’s above it or something.

Our eyes meet briefly, and at least his eyes aren’t full of disdain this time. They just seem haunted and sad. “What are we doing this far out?” I ask him.

“I want to check something out,” he says and keeps walking. I want to ask what, but I bite my tongue. All that’s out this way are the creepy haunted caves, but this is a breakthrough for us, and I don’t want to mess it up by talking too much.

This was where Shadowface lives—Kinsmen’s own version of the boogeyman. Of course, that’s what they say. But Shadowface isn’t just a story; he’s real, or at least, he was. And he really did kill people.

We finally arrive at a cave. It’s dusk now, and we’ll have to find our way back in the darkness.

We enter the lip of the cave, which opens to a larger cavern below. There are a series of caves out here, but this is the only one accessible from the ground and with a cavern tall enough to stand in.

Remy sits on the ground and lays his feet out in front of him. I join him, and so does Bax, who places the flashlight in the middle of us, and we form a circle.

“Dude, it’s cold out here, man,” Bax says, taking a swig, then lights a joint.

Remy tilts his head, his dark hair resting over his shadowed eyes. “Make a fire, then. We’re going to be here awhile.”