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Recently, Willow asked me whether my Mustang would be faster than a Ferrari. I told her it depends on the models—but I’m not a car expert or anything. I don’t think she meant to tell me more. I think she kind of slipped. But off my confusion about the question, since it was out of the blue, she kept going.
I know that Daisy’s Ferrari is brand new. Two weeks new. I know it’s also her first car, having only really driven motorcycles before.
Information I shouldn’t have.
Information I won’t share with a soul. I’d die first, I think.
Rose yells louder, “Daisy how many times have you driven any kind of car?!”
I strain my ears just to hear Daisy’s reply from outside. “Cuatro!”
Four.
Holy shit.
“Bro, why are you riding in the deathmobile?!” Lo yells at his brother.
“We’re fucking fine!” Ryke screams from outside.
If they’re going to be fine, I have to believe I’m going to be okay. Because honestly, I can’t tell what’s a bigger risk.
Being in a car with Daisy Calloway or hiding out in this duffel bag.
Luckily, the choice has already been made for me.
The Escalade is parked for longer than just a pee-break. I can tell because they’re all talking outside, too casually to be in a public space.
What I infer: we must have arrived at the lake house. I can almost taste freedom out of this suffocating duffel bag. Before that, though, I have to actually figure out a way to exit the trunk without being seen.
Easier said than done.
I stay quiet. Motionless. Listening to the sound of their conversation outside.
“Is anyone else scared of bears?” Lily’s voice carries loudly. Bears. I have no clue where we are—but I’m guessing it’s somewhere secluded in the woods. Shit, I don’t really want to hypothesize when I’m not supposed to know the exact location.
“Moose are scarier,” Willow says.
My lips inch up.
“There are moose here?!” Lily yells in fright. “Why didn’t anyone tell me about the moose?! Lo, did you know about the moose?”
With her high-pitched tone, it sounds more comical than it should. My smile pulls higher, wishing I was out there. And then, my bladder suddenly rebels against me. Fuck, I have to piss. My legs ache, and I try to rub my hamstring without causing noise.
“No, no,” Willow says swiftly to Lily, “I just meant in general. There were a lot of moose in Maine, but I’ve never been around here, so I wouldn’t know.”
“No moose,” Connor declares.
Someone groans. Sounds deep like Ryke’s voice. It’s confirmed when I hear him say, “Can we please fucking ban the word moose from now on?”
“Agreed,” Rose adds.
“I like a good moose in the morning,” Loren pipes in just to be that guy and irritate the shit out of everyone. I’d give him a gold star.
I tune them out when my hamstring starts to fully cramp. Motherfucker. I grind down on my teeth and press the heels of my palms to my forehead. Might as well zip up this duffel bag and toss it into a hole. Bury me in the ground where I belong.
My insides twist, and I let out a tensed breath through my nose.
“We obviously need to go over the fucking rules about bears,” Ryke says to something I missed. “Unless it’s hunting season or the bear is attacking you, you can’t shoot it.”
“Says who?” Rose combats.
“The fucking law,” Ryke replies. “I can’t believe I camped with you, and we didn’t talk about this. Look, I brought bear spray for everyone, so it’s non-fucking-negotiable.”
“Let’s start unpacking before it gets dark.” Connor’s words ignite panic in every pore of my body. Unpacking involves popping this trunk. The one where I’m currently stuffed inside a duffel bag. I stop breathing. Stop moving.
I might as well be a corpse.
“You guys should look at the house first,” Willow interjects. “I’ll start unpacking.”
She’s got this, Abbey. Calm the fuck down.
“You’re not here as manual labor,” Loren refutes. “So you should explore the house with us.”
Willow clears her throat uneasily. “I…” Her voice tapers off.
I wish I were out there helping her, but that’d just blow everything to shit. Guilt gnaws my insides. You put her in this position, my head screams at me.
I don’t want to ruin her. Turn her into someone who lies to the people who love her. But I’m sinking, and I feel myself clinging to anything on shore. So I grip her fingers, and I’m terrified I’ll pull her down with me.
I’m doing it right now.
I know.
I know.
Fuck, I know.
This was a bad idea.
Willow continues, more confident this time, “I was going to call my mom—I mean, our mom. Or…you know, whatever she is. I just needed a minute alone.”
The quiet somehow sounds tense, and I’m not even out there.
A beat later, Loren replies, “Yeah, I didn’t realize you were in contact with her, but…definitely, as long as you don’t tell her the location of where you are—”
