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"What happened?" I question. Emotionless, bored. It's how I feel.
It's how Ishouldfeel.
She blinks, like she's coming out of a trance. She shifts her eyes to mine, just for a moment before looking back out the window.
"You don’t care," she whispers.
I blink, staring at her tired face. Like she hasn't slept, even though she slept in my arms the entire walk back to the house. How long she slept before and after that, I don't know. But it looks like she hasn't slept in days, weeks.
I shrug. "Whatever."
Spinning around, I shove my hands into my pockets with the intent of getting the fuck out of there. Screw her.
I should torture her, play another prank on her until she cracks altogether. But I won't. I'll let her simmer in her fury until she snaps. And that's when I'll tear her to pieces.
Bit by bit.
Her voice cracks when I'm in her doorway, stopping me in my tracks.
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
My eyebrow lifts, and I look over my shoulder at her. She's rolled onto her back, her hands laced together on top of her stomach. She stares at the ceiling, a look of being lost and broken and a little scared reflecting in her eyes.
I debate on how to respond. I can tell her the truth, that the dead live here freely. There is no heaven or hell in Castle Pointe. There's the breathing, and the not breathing.
The evil, and the rotting.
There's no good here. There's nothing worth remembering. We're all beating hearts wandering aimlessly through life until we become heartless souls wandering aimlessly through death. There's no in-between.
There's no after.
"More than people," I utter, turning around before I can see how my response has affected her.
I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.
The orange glow from the fire illuminates everyone's faces. Their bottom halves disappear in the night, and their top halves are glowing, their teeth shining extra bright. Drunk and high, I'm surprised more of them don't drown in Superior.
The water laps at the edge of the fire pit, the large metal cage holding the old firewood, standing high enough off the ground that even if the water does rise enough, it won't extinguish the fire. It's a large pit, about five feet in diameter. About a dozen people stand around it, cans of beer in their hands while others linger in and out of their vehicles along the water.
We brought the party down to the water tonight. More people came than I thought would. This little section of the beach is filled with cars and people. Being fall, the crowd starts thinning out earlier than they usually would. Most don't like the cold, and when it's thirty degrees in Duluth, it'll be about twenty degrees here. It always runs colder. Doesn't matter the time of day or the season, Castle Pointe is just different.
I flick my cigarette into the fire, taking a step back. Thea showed up late, and her friends took her away somewhere. I'm going to take this as my chance to get the fuck out of here while I still can.
I slip out of the crowd, walking back to the Rover in the back near the hill.
"Dude, where the fuck you goin'?" Atticus stumbles through the sand, the beer in his hand sloshing over the top, spilling over his fingers and onto the ground.
"I'm goin' the fuck home." I pull the keys from my pocket, more irritated than I should be. I have no right, and I don't need to take it out on my boys. They follow my lead, so it's un-fucking-necessary for me to treat them like shit.
But I can't help it. Because the little witch at my house has turned everything I've ever known upside down. With just one glance.
Atticus frowns at me. "Thea pissing you off?"
I bark out a laugh. "When isn't she pissing me off?"
He lifts an eyebrow. "What's really going on?"
I shake my head, feeling like I shouldn't even be admitting this. Not to him. Not to myself. "Just not feeling shit tonight."
