2006, Camp Wawa, End of Week Seven âI dare you . . .â Kyle pauses to take a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze on the last bit of daylight as we lie sprawled out in the alcove at the bottom of the cliff. Our place. Itâs cool and cast in shadow now, after a hot, sun-filled afternoon. âIâm tired of playing this game.â
I peer up at him, my head resting against his stomach. âYou want to go back to your cabin?â
His head tilts downward to meet my gaze. âDo you?â
Yes, I mouth. Right now.
I get a lazy, suggestive smile in return as Kyleâs eyes drift over my bikini-clad body.
âWell, I want to go. Iâm getting cold,â Ashley whines, wrapping her arms around herself and exaggerating a shiver.
âYou need another one of these, then.â Eric holds up a shot of tequila. We hit Provisions early and then came out here to drink and swim under the sun. Hours and too many shots later, the very idea of climbing this rocky hill and walking home is exhausting.
Ashley pushes his hand away with a groan. âNo more. Iâm going to puke.â
âFine.â He lifts the shot glass to his mouth.
âHavenât dared you yet!â Kyle objects, waving an arm haphazardly in the air.
âFine. I dare me to kiss Freckles.â Eric dives down to plant his mouth on hers, spilling half his tequila over the rocks in the process.
âThat doesnât count, jackass,â Kyle mutters, but heâs grinning, as am I, because Ashley hasnât pushed him away. âFinally,â he murmurs, his stomach muscles tensing as he sits up, his hand gripping my head as I slide downward. âLetâs get this over with. Iâm getting cold, too.â
We collect the empty bottles.
âMan, we drank a lot,â Kyle murmurs, chuckling and stumbling a touch. âThanks, Piper, for bankrolling all this.â
âWhatever.â I didnât even think; I just handed my card to him. I also filled his car up with gas and picked up our burger tab. It felt good to do that.
It takes three times as long to climb the rocky hill. Ashley and I are on our hands and knees, laughing, by the time we reach the top. âI just want to sleep now,â I moan, inspecting the scratches on my palms from the thorny branches and rocks. Iâm going to feel them tomorrow.
Eric stumbles over to the edge of the cliff. âI canât believe we only have one week left here.â
âCareful . . . Youâre drunk,â Ashley warns. âI donât want you falling off.â
Eric turns to grin at her. âAw, you finally admitting that you care about me?â
âNo.â She giggles, her cheeks flushing.
And then Eric leaps over the edge, his âYahoo!â following all the way down to a splash.
âShit!â Kyle rushes to the edge, stepping carefully as he peers over. âYou crazy asshole!â he bellows.
âJump!â Eric coaxes from below.
Ashley and I both sigh with relief.âSo I can climb back up that hill? Hell no.â
âLame!â comes the response.
âRemember, youâre a shitty swimmer. Just get back up here.â Kyle backs away from the edge, stumbling a touch. âThis is going to take a while.â He more falls than sits on the boulder. âI drank too much.â
âWe all drank too much.â I hunker down next to him. Ashley falls into him on the other side. We lean against one another while we wait.
âI think Iâm going to pass out,â Ashley moans. âOr puke. One of the two. Or maybe both.â
âHurry up, Vetter!â Kyle hollers.
Silence answers.
âEric?â
Nothing.
âFuck . . .â Kyle stumbles to his feet and heads for the rocky pathway down. âHey! Eric!â
âIâm coming . . . Iâm coming . . .â comes the answer between ragged breaths. âThis was a really bad idea, wasnât it?â
Kyle laughs. âYeah, youâre full of bad ideas, asshole.â He watches with his arms folded over his chest, as his drunken best friend scales the treacherous path.
Itâs another few moments before we spot Ericâs curly blond hair crest.
âUgh. Finally. Can we go now?â Ashley pulls herself to her feet.
âGood things come to those who wait, Freckles.â Eric stands and grins, his arms outstretched, his chest heaving with his exertion.
He sways backward and stumbles to catch his balance.
And then heâs gone.
âEric!â Kyle yells, scrambling for him.
âKyle!â I choke out. Ashley and I rush toward the top of the path in time to see Eric tumbling head over heels, over and over, bouncing off the rocks. Kyle tries in vain to catch up, skidding and sliding down the path while somehow managing to stay on his feet.
Eric comes to a stop in a sprawled heap at the rocks on the bottom. Even in the dimming light and with my impaired vision, I can see his leg is bent all wrong. Crimson seeps out all over his skin.
He lets out a bloodcurdling scream.
âEric!â Ashley cries out, looking ready to run for him, tears pouring from her eyes.
âNo! Ash!â I grab her arm. I think Iâm going to throw up.
Kyle is halfway down the hill, his eyes wild with panic as they flit between his friend on the rocks and us.
âWhat do we do, Kyle?â I cry.
âUh . . . Okay. Go and get Darian now. Tell her Eric fell and we need an ambulance. Tell her where we are.â
I nod, grabbing Ashleyâs arm.
I run as fast as I can.
Darianâs face is carved with worry as she marches toward us, the air ambulance climbing higher in the sky, two state troopers in conversation nearby, six counselors including Christa lingering near the trees, their expressions filled with horror and shock.
âIs he going to be okay?â Ashley manages through her sobs.
âWell, his leg and arm are definitely broken. Thatâs all we know right now. Iâm sure it helped, having all that alcohol coursing through his veins,â Darian says.
I avert my gaze to my feet to avoid her glare. Regret weighs down on me. God, we are so stupid.
âWhat were you guys thinking, going out there?â she admonishes. âHow much did you drink?â
I steal a glance to my left, to Kyle. His jaw tenses.
What will happen to him if the police find out that he used his brotherâs ID to buy the booze?
âI know youâve all been drinking. I can smell it on you. And thereâs a pile of empty bottles lying here. Where did you get the alcohol? In town? Who bought it for you?â
Kyle bought it, but I paid for it all, on my credit card. Thereâs a record of it, and now Eric is badly hurt and there are cops hovering. What will happen to me?
I swallow my rising fear. âIâd like to call my father.â As much as I dread that conversation, if thereâs a way out of this, heâll know it. Plus, heâs going to find out anyway. About this, about Kyle . . .
Darian sighs. âThatâs a very good idea, Piper. Letâs call all your parents. And you can pack your things while you wait for them to come and get you.â
âIs that him?â Kyle murmurs, his fingers laced within mine as we sit beside each other at a picnic table under the pavilion, watching headlights approach up Wawaâs long, winding road at one A.M.
âYeah, I think so,â I manage to say around the painful lump in my throat. The belongings I arrived with are packed and sitting on the ground next to my feet.
âMine should be here soon,â Ashley murmurs, her voice missing that usual spark.
Kyleâs mom said sheâs not coming, that Kyle can drive himself home. Darian insisted that would be first thing tomorrow morning, when the alcohol has left his system.
Iâm sober now. I think Iâve been sober since the state troopers questioned me about how Eric fell. Once they were convinced it was a drunken accident and not foul play, they lined us up and berated us for a half hour about how stupid and irresponsible we are, how no parent would want their child left in our care at this camp, and then handed us all our fines for underage drinking and left.
Dread takes hold of my insides and squeezes tight as the SUV comes to a stop beside the old green Pinto. Iâm not sure which is worseâfacing my father or saying goodbye to Kyle.
My father doesnât wait for Eddie to open the door. He slides out from the backseat and, adjusting the collar of his button-down shirt, marches across the dimly lit lawn toward us, his face as stony as Iâve ever seen it, even from all the way over here.
Darian intercepts him on the way. Iâm sure sheâs filling him in on exactly why Iâve been fired. And whatever heâs saying to her, well . . . Darian seems to shrink back as my father speaks, looming over her tiny frame.
âPiper!â he bellows.
I climb to my feet and sway, not because of alcohol. âI guess this is it, then.â My voice cracks.
A sob escapes Ashleyâs throat as she throws her arms around me.
My own eyes begin to water as I return the embrace.
âI had so much fun with you this summer.â
âUp until tonight.â
We share a weak laugh, though thereâs nothing amusing about any of this.
âKeep in touch, okay?â she whispers.
âOf course.â Oddly enough, itâs the same thing Christa said when she thrust a piece of paper into my hand on my way out of our cabin, her email address scrawled across it in her perfect bubbly penmanship. Then she hugged me. I was shocked, to say the least.
Kyle is on his feet, my duffel bag in his hand.
I fight the tears but they win, streaming down my cheeks. After seeing Kyle every day for almost an entire summer, this is goodbye. For now. âYouâll call me, right?â
âYes.â He reaches up to wipe a tear away with the pad of his thumb.
âIâm so sorry.â Not only has he lost his job, but that fine will eat into his savings.
He sighs. âWhat are you sorry about? This isnât your fault.â
âYeah, but . . . Iâm still sorry.â
âPiper!â my dad calls again. He begins marching back toward the parking lot, expecting me to follow.
âCome on, Iâll walk you.â Kyle takes a step forward.
I hesitate. âThere? To him?â
He shrugs. âWhatâs he going to do, hit me?â
I grab my sleeping bag and pillow, and together we trudge across the front lawn. How long ago it seems now, that early summer day when Mom dropped me off here, reluctant and bitter.
Now I would do anything to stay. Anything to see Eric running aroundânaked or otherwise. Anything to be curled up in bed next to Kyle right now, where I should be.
Why did we have to be so stupid?
Darian is waiting for us where she met my father. Her face is drawn and tight. âPiper, can I talk to you for a minute?â she asks. âAlone?â
Kyle unloads my sleeping bag from my arms and continues on, my anxiety rising with each step that he takes toward the SUV.
Darian hands me an envelope. âThis covers your pay up until this morning.â
âThanks.â My gaze falls to my running shoes. âIâm sorry.â
She sighs heavily. âNo . . . Iâm sorry. Kyle and Eric were always a handful. I was naïve enough to think I could handle them. I shouldnât have allowed them back this year. Or I should have gotten rid of them after the first incident. If I had, Eric wouldnât be lying in a hospital room.â
As much as I wish the same for Eric, Iâm glad she let them come backâI canât imagine not knowing Kyle, not having these memoriesâbut I donât voice that.
âIs he going to be okay?â
âI havenât talked to his parents yet. Theyâre still on their way from Erie. Itâs quite a drive. But he was conscious, which is a good sign.â Her eyes drift over to the parking lot. âYour father. Heâs a tough one, isnât he?â
âEspecially when heâs angry.â And he is facing off with Kyle now. Oh God. âI should goââ
âIâm not that much older than you guys. I remember what it was like to be young and in love. You canât think of anything else. Nothing else matters. Itâs all-consuming.â She smiles sadly. âAnd it feels like a part of you dies when youâve lost it, a part youâll never get back. But you will.â
I frown, wondering what sheâs getting at. I havenât lost Kyle. Sure, weâll be three hours away from each other, but weâll make it work.
Iâll make it work.
âI really wish this had gone a different way, Piper. Iâm . . . very disappointed. You are a good counselor. I would have liked to have seen you here again next year.â
âI would have liked to have come.â
âI hope, if nothing else, youâve learned from this.â She hesitates, but then wraps her arms around me. âTake care of yourself. And make better choices. That could have been you tumbling down those rocks.â
With that, I rush toward Kyle and my father. By the time I reach them, Kyleâs face is ghostly white and pained.
âLetâs go,â my dad commands. âItâll be almost four A.M. by the time we get home.â
âI need a few minutesââ
âPiper.â
âJust a few minutes!â My voice cracks as I bark back, setting my jaw with defiance, though I tack on a âPlease.â
His lips are a thin line. âIâll take those.â He holds his hands out, staring intently at Kyle.
Kyle hands him my things, which he promptly passes to Eddie.
âYou have two minutes to say goodbye.â He climbs into the SUV.
I grasp Kyleâs hands. âWhat did he say to you?â
âNothing I havenât heard before.â Kyle smiles, but I know itâs forced.
âHere.â I reach into my back pocket and pull out the stack of paychecks. âI signed all of them over to you.â
Heâs already shaking his head. âNo, I canâtââ
âTake it! Please. I donât need it and you just lost a week of pay. Plus, this way you can afford to call me and come visit.â
His jaw clenches as he gently pushes my hand away. âI canât, Piper. Thank you, though.â
This is it. I throw my arms around Kyleâs neck, my eyes watering again, panic seizing my insides. âI donât want to leave you,â I whisper.
His arms tighten around my waist, squeezing me.
I pull away, just enough to press my lips against his, ever conscious of my fatherâs gaze from the backseat.
Kyle hesitates at first, but then heâs the one deepening the kiss.
âI love you so much,â I whisper against his mouth, crying now.
He blinks away a sheen in his own eyes. âI love you, too, Piper. Always. Remember that.â
âYouâll call me tomorrow, as soon as you get home?â
His jaw grows taut and he swallows, his gaze flittering to the dark window, to the unseen face looming behind.
âYeah. Here.â He slips off the leather bracelet from his wrist. âTo remind you of me.â
âAs if I could ever forget you.â I laugh through my tears. I search my body, coming up empty. âI wish I had something to give you.â
âI donât need anything.â He smiles sadly and taps his temple. âItâs all up here.â
With one last kiss, he breaks free and begins walking away, his head hanging low.
Not until Iâm seated and weâre rolling down the driveway, my thumb rubbing back and forth over the grain of the leather, do I get the eerie sense that that felt like a final goodbye.
Iâm staring at the plate in front of meâat the massacred slice of toast, shredded to pieces, none of them eatenâwhen my father swoops into the kitchen, his navy suit looking fresh and crisp, coffee mug in hand. Itâs Monday morning, at eleven. He should have been at work four hours ago.
âYour mother is on her way back from Paris. Sheâll be home in a few hours,â he announces. Itâs the first thing heâs said to me since the drive home from Wawa, early yesterday morning. After he told me I can forget about my car for a year, as well as my credit card.
âDid she sound upset that she and Aunt Jackie had to end their vacation early?â
âIs that who she told you sheâs with?â Dadâs jaw tightens. âNo. She and . . . Aunt Jackie know itâs time they came home.â His voice is dripping with bitterness.
âHave you been able to find out anything about Eric?â I ask, pleading in my voice. Ashley and I have been texting back and forth, but thereâs no news between the two of us. I emailed Christa yesterday, to see if sheâd heard. Being lead counselor, she has more access to the office computer than any other counselors there. Plus, sheâs the only email address I have besides the Camp Wawa administrative in-box that I used for employment paperwork.
She has no news on him, either.
So, I asked my father yesterday if he could find something out. He always has his ways. He didnât acknowledge my request with anything more than a glare.
Dad chugs the rest of his coffee and then sets the porcelain mug on the counter. âThe boyâs leg and arm are badly broken and he hit his head a few times, but theyâre saying heâll pull through.â
I breathe a sigh of relief. âThank you.â I hesitate. âIâm sorry for lying to you.â
His jaw tenses. âIâm sorry, too, Piper. But I will always do what I know is best for you. Remember that.â With that, heâs gone.
Leaving me to stare at my phone, the agony unbearable.
Kyle hasnât called.
Hasnât messaged, hasnât texted.
Christa said he left Wawa before anyone woke up on Sunday morning. And yet I havenât heard from him. I keep thinking something horrible happened on his drive home. But when I call his number, it rings on and on. His family doesnât know to call me, but, if something bad had happened, wouldnât a family member answer his phone?
The calls go through; it hasnât died yet, so itâs being charged.
So why isnât he answering?
Why hasnât he called?