This Is How It Ends

“Him and his girl.” He winked, somberness vanishing instantly. “Proceed with caution.”

Bastard, I thought. Which is pretty much what I always thought when I saw him these days.

I flicked the basement light on and off before clomping downstairs. Mr. Jones was a creep, but he was right. I definitely did not want to see Trip and Sarah doing whatever they did when we weren’t there.

Which today was only playing checkers.

I lugged a beanbag closer while Tannis, who’d followed me down, messed with the music. Trip took Sarah’s piece, and she responded with a triple jump, clearing the board of red checkers.

“I let you win,” he said, standing.

“Yeah, okay.” Sarah rolled her eyes and smiled at me. Typical Trip.

“You hear from Nat today?” I asked her. We’d all left messages and texts, but Sarah was the most likely to hear back.

Sarah shook her head. “The police probably have her phone.”

“I wonder when they’ll let her go,” Tannis said. “I mean, they can’t keep her forever.”

“Unless she did it,” I said.

Trip scowled at me and pulled on his fleece. “You ready?”

No. But I trailed him back upstairs anyway. All of us waved to his parents on the way out.

***

Twenty minutes later we pulled into the deserted dirt lot. I stepped out, the wind rushing past with more than a hint of frost. The four of us huddled by the car, zipping jackets and rewrapping scarves before following Trip up the half-frozen path like a parade of mummies. It was hard to believe it had been less than two weeks ago that we’d come up here with beers, made the fire, played Tannis’s stupid game of truth or dare.

Now one of us was in police custody, her dad dead.

The clearing seemed much more exposed, with the leaves gone and the cave yawning black behind the half circle of stones. No one mentioned gathering wood. There was no beer to stow.

“Where are they?”

It took me a minute to realize Trip was talking to me. “The binoculars?” I asked.

“No, dude, your balls.” Trip snorted. “Of course, the binoculars.”

“In the cave.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sarah told him. “I put them in there.”

Trip slipped his hand into hers and they walked toward the cave, the beam of the flashlight bobbing ahead of them and twigs crunching under their boots. The moonlight made Sarah’s skin even paler than usual, and I could see her biting at her lip, the way she did when she was nervous. The first time I’d noticed it had been in sixth grade at Kelly Lipman’s party. The day we kissed.

Rich Fowler had shoved the Coke bottle toward me. “Your turn, brainiac.”

I’d stared at it, wishing I could melt into the floor. Galen Riddock whispered something to Trip, the three of them nudging each other and laughing across the circle. That was the year Trip discovered football, and Rich and Galen were the captains of the Pop Warner team he hoped to play on. He’d been buddying up to them, so I was an outcast, sandwiched between the new girl who’d come with Natalie Cleary and Kelly, whose mom worked at Woodside Manor with mine and had probably made her invite me to this stupid party just like my mom had made me come. Angrily I sent the bottle skittering, trying not to think about Rich yammering by the pretzel and soda table earlier. I had no idea how to “slip them some tongue,” since I’d never even kissed a girl on the lips.

The bottle slowed, clicking softly and finally stopping with its neck pointing squarely to the girl on my right.

She looked at me silently, her dark eyes solemn. My heart was thudding. Does she expect me to slip her some tongue? Does she want me to?

“Uh, Riley? You want to get on with it?”

Trip. Fucking loudmouth.

“I don’t think she bites,” he said, adding suggestively, “Or maybe she does.”

Everyone laughed. Except me and the girl.

Her brown eyes seemed nice. But also sad. Like my mom looked the time we found a puppy with broken ribs at the park.

For God’s sake, stop thinking about your mom. Just do it. I leaned forward. Don’t slobber. She smelled sweet, like gum or candy, her eyes on mine until I was too close to see them anymore. Then my lips touched hers, soft and hot, and I felt weird and nervous and tingly. Okay, that’s long enough. I sat back, my face burning, hoping I hadn’t messed it up somehow.

“Didja get some tongue?” Galen yelled. Trip and Rich cackled.

The new girl looked at him. “No,” she said blandly. “And please keep yours to yourself next time too.”

“Oooooooh!” Natalie said.

Galen shot Nat a dirty look, and I stared at Sarah McKenzie, wondering at this new girl brazen enough to take my side over one of the most popular guys in school. That was when I saw her hand clenched by her side, the knuckles white and the corner of her lip puckered where she was biting at it. She’s nervous, I realized, filled with admiration. Much more than she’s letting on.

“Yo!” Tannis yelled toward the cave now. “Trip! Should we send in a search party?”

They came out seconds later, before I even had time to hope maybe the binoculars were gone. Trip waved the box toward me. “Want to go first?” he asked.

“No.”

“What are you . . . chicken?”

“What are you . . . ten?”

Trip stuck out his tongue.

“I guess that’s a yes,” I said. “And, sure, I’m chicken.”

“Anyone else?” he offered. The girls shook their heads, Tannis even taking a step back. “All right.” Trip sighed, setting the box on the ground. “I guess it’s all me.”

He reached for the lid.

“Wait,” I said. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Trip looked up, blue eyes shining silver in the moonlight. After a second he nodded. “Yeah, Ri. I am.”

“What if you see something bad, like what Nat saw?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Trip answered. “But we need to know. It’s gotta be killing Natalie if she really saw it, somehow knew ahead of time—”

“Unless she’s the one who did it.”

“You keep saying that,” Trip said. “But, fine. If she is the one, don’t you think we should know if these had anything to do with it? Plus,” he added, “the curiosity’s killing me.”

“It’s like Pandora’s box,” Sarah observed.

Trip winked at her. “Is that the  p**n  we watched last night?”