As he spoke, the wind increased, pushing my hair away from my neck. I said, “One of my favorite things to do is watch storms approach.”
“How long until it reaches us?”
“You can never tell for sure. Sometimes they rage while they’re above the ocean and then disappear when they reach our cove. If this one comes here, I doubt it will be here anytime soon.”
He stepped lightly over some rocks. “Wonderful. Then there’s no rush.”
I followed him, the air cooler than when we had started our walk, yet still far from cold.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been in there,” Thomas said, referring to the inn. “It’s like a mystery in your own backyard and you’re not even interested in solving it.”
“I guess there’s not much that’s mysterious about it,” I lied. “It’s an old, falling-down inn that will probably collapse during this storm or the next one.”
“It was built by your great-grandparents. Aren’t you at least a little interested in what it looks like?”
“It was actually my great-great-grandparents, and, no, not really. They weren’t nice people, so I suppose that has taken away any interest I might have had in what they created.” I crossed my arms across my chest as the wind grew chillier.
“Still, how do you not want to check it out?” Thomas said.
“My parents and Gigi told me it was dangerous and not to go in it. I trust them,” I said, wishing we could focus on Luca again. That topic was far pleasanter than this one.
“What about me?” Thomas said, flashing his mischievous grin.
“What about you?”
“They never told me not to go in it,” he said, his expression animated.
“I’m pretty sure they meant to include you,” I said, feeling irritated at Thomas for not letting this go.
“It’s so close,” he said.
The inn was maybe a hundred feet away.
“I’ll pop my head in for a second. If it’s unsteady I’ll get right out,” he said, as he began moving swiftly toward the inn.
He didn’t wait for me to respond; he was practically jogging toward the inn. I ran to catch up to him. We were closer to the inn than I’d been in years.
I grabbed his arm. “Thomas, I’m asking you, as my friend, not to go in there.”
“What’s that smell?” he said, ignoring my pleas.
“Old,” I said, standing in front of him, arms folded. “It smells like old.”
Thomas sniffed. “No, it smells more like rotten eggs.” He sniffed again. “Like sulfur.”
I inhaled. He was right. I turned toward the inn. My curiosity was now piqued. I remember being this close once before, when I was very young. Trees had grown up around it since then; some were so close they were touching it. One grew from under the porch, bending sharply to reach the sun on the other side. The building was gray, the cedar shakes split and warped.
From behind us, I heard the pounding of footsteps through the shallow water. I turned. Luca was running to catch up with us. Even Thomas turned and watched him approach.
“Luca?” I said, surprised.
“What are you doing?” he said, breathing heavily.
“Thomas wanted to go into the inn,” I said.
Luca’s amber eyes stared into mine. “It isn’t safe,” he said.
Thomas said, “It looks fine from here. Old, but not crumbling. If it feels unsteady, I’ll turn back.”
“Sometimes you don’t realize something is dangerous until it’s too late,” Luca said, raising his hand to his head and squinting as if in pain.
“Life is about taking risks,” Thomas said confidently.
“It’s about taking the right risks, not the wrong ones,” Luca said. “And going in there is the wrong risk.” He winced again.
“Are you okay?” I asked Luca.
“A headache,” he responded, his face turning pale.
Thomas approached Luca and said, “You aren’t feeling well. Siena should take you to your house. I’ll be right there once I get a look inside.” He turned toward the inn.
I said, “He’s right, Luca. Let me take you home. You don’t look well at all.”
“I’ll be okay,” he said, and stepped forward to try and block Thomas.
Thomas moved easily past him, and Luca stumbled yet continued after him, his body growing noticeably weaker by the moment. The ground beneath us turned from rocks to green moss and wisps of grass. We were now beyond where the tide reached.
“That smell is really strong,” I said, pulling my shirt collar over my nose.
“I wonder if something’s dead in there,” Thomas said, moving quickly toward the building.
A chill ran up my spine.
“Please,” Luca said, reaching out for Thomas, but missing. He fell to the ground and vomited.
I screamed.
Luca was on the ground, lying flat on his stomach, the bright green moss a stark contrast to his now yellow-tinged skin.
“Thomas, help me,” I shouted as I tried to roll Luca to his side. He was barely conscious.
I turned to Thomas. He was climbing to the front door through the wreckage of the porch. He didn’t turn.
“Thomas,” I yelled again. “Thomas!”
At last he turned and blinked, as if he’d forgotten I was there. He turned back to the inn, then to me, appearing torn on what he should do.
“Give me your phone,” I demanded.
He hesitated, then pulled it from his pocket and threw it to me. I clicked it on. There were dozens of text messages from dozens of people. I tried my best to ignore the words on the screen: “How’s the rich girl?” was the one I couldn’t ignore.
I blinked, clicked on the phone app, and dialed Gigi’s number.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello,” she said tentatively, not recognizing Thomas’s number.
“Gigi, it’s me. I’m at the beach. Luca got sick and passed out.”
“Did he eat anything?” she asked with concern.
“I don’t think so,” I said, staring down at Luca. “His face is so pale.”
“I’ll call Sam and we’ll get to you,” Gigi said, and the phone became silent. I tossed it back to Thomas.
“Cars can’t get down here. We need to move him toward home,” I said. “Help me lift him.”
Thomas came beside me and yanked one of Luca’s arms.
“Be gentle with him,” I screamed, overcome with fear.
Thomas groaned as he lifted Luca’s shoulders while I held his legs. He was dead weight; his head flopped backward. If he tried to vomit again, he’d suffocate.
“This isn’t working,” I said, breathing heavily.
We set Luca down.
Thomas stretched his back. “Let’s take him to the water. Maybe it will help him.”
We both groaned when we lifted Luca, carrying him toward the waves. The icy water hit my ankles and then my calves.
“This is far enough,” I said as I set Luca’s legs down into the water. Thomas propped Luca’s shoulders and head on a rock to keep them dry.
“I’ll stay with him,” I said. “Run up the trail and see if anyone is coming to help.”