“I told you kids to stay away from there!”
“We were only there for a minute,” Jake said. One thing Jake refused to do was lie to Mr. Jacobson. He said he always found out anyway, and if Jake told the truth, it would go easier on him. “We just wanted to see what it looked like.”
“And? What’s it look like?” Mr. Jacobson asked.
“Like dead people live there,” Lynda muttered.
I shivered again, and Eli’s arm wrapped around me, holding me close.
“You kids stay away from there,” he said firmly. He shined his spotlight in each of our faces, one by one, and waited until we’d all nodded.
“Yes, sir,” I replied. He didn’t have to worry about me ever going up there again.
“Do I need to tell your parents where you’ve been?” he asked.
“No, sir,” we all said at once.
“Good enough,” he said, and he’d turned off the powerful light and walked back into the house, not quite slamming the door but definitely closing it firmly behind him.
I sagged against Eli, who leaned against me, his chest shaking. “Are you laughing?” I asked him.
“No,” he said, sobering a little. “Just trying to catch my breath.”
He sank down onto the grass, and we all sat down with him. I leaned on him, as Katie and Jake and then Aaron and Lynda all sat close together.
“I’m never following you guys anywhere again,” Lynda said.
“Me either,” Katie added.
I knew for sure that I would never go back out there to that spooky cabin.
Lynda punched Aaron on the shoulder so hard that even I flinched. “You shoved me between you and the door, you ass!”
“I didn’t want it to get me,” Aaron replied over a choked laugh.
We all sat together for about forty-five minutes, just talking quietly. And then Katie jumped to her feet. “My dad is going to kill me,” she said. “It’s after ten.”
Jake shined his flashlight at her watch and cursed softly. “I’ll walk you back,” he said to her.
“I have to go, too. We can walk together. ’Night, y’all,” Lynda called out, and she and Aaron left with Jake and Katie, until it was just me and Eli.
He looked down at me, and I could see the smile in his eyes. His laugher was always a constant, as was his calmness. Where I was always worked up about something, Eli was just the opposite. I got up and started to walk back to my cabin, but he gave a quick tug against my fingers, and I realized that he was still holding my hand.
He pulled me closer to him, his hands lifting to bracket my face, and then he kissed me. His lips were soft and moist, and he opened his mouth so wide that my face got wet. But he figured it out after a second or two, and his kiss became sweeter rather than frantic. He pulled back, brushed my hair from my forehead with gentle fingers and said, “How was that for a first kiss?”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It was a little slobbery, to be honest,” I answered.
Not offended in the least, he chuckled and tugged my hand, leading me toward my cabin. “I’ll do better next time.”
Next time? “Hey, Eli?”
“Hey, Bess.”
“I don’t think it could be any better,” I whispered, with what felt like a perma-grin on my face.
“I don’t think so either,” he replied.
He walked me all the way back to my cabin, and then he kissed me again, this time more tender lips than slobber, and it was perfect.
I went inside and my mom met me in the kitchen. She stopped and stared at me. She smiled a knowing smile. “Did you have a good night?” she asked.
“It was the best,” I whispered. And I went to bed, still thinking about that kiss and what it meant.
20
Bess
Aaron clutches his stomach as he doubles over, and the guy getting chemo in the chair next to him leans over to be sure he’s still breathing. “Is he all right?” he asks.
“He’s just an idiot,” I reply, absolute fury in my veins. I kick his shin and he jumps, covering his leg with his hand.
“Hey!” Aaron cries. “That hurt.”
But the incessant laughter slows down to a choked sobbing sound, at least. “You girls were so scared,” he said. “I never saw you pedal so fast!” He makes a choking sound. “You were terrified.”
“I thought it was real, you ass!” I hiss at him. But his absolute joy at revealing the ruse to me now makes a grin tug at my lips. “I hate you,” I say.
“It was worth it,” he retorts, now that he can catch his breath. “We didn’t tell Little Robbie to call out as we all left. That was genius on his part. Freaking genius, I tell you! I’m pretty sure that Eli gave him an extra quarter the next day when we paid him.”
“I hate you,” I say again. “I can’t believe you of all people tricked me! You were supposed to be my best friend!”
“I’m still your best friend, Bess,” he says, suddenly sobering. “I always will be, no matter what happens.”
“Did Lynda know?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and letting out a huff.
“Not until years later. We took the kids to a haunted house at a local church one night, and I spilled my guts.” He finally sobers completely. “She didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night.”
“Did anybody ever tell Katie?”
He shrugs and reaches for his drink. He can’t reach it, so I pass it to him, and he takes a slow sip. “No idea. I’m not going to tell her. That’s on Jake.”
I start to shake my foot. “I can’t believe Eli never confessed.”
“I’m sure if it had ever come up he would have told you.”
“So you guys went all the way out there, set up the tape recorder, and arranged for Little Robbie to knock on the door, all without us knowing.”
“Yep.” He sits back with a satisfied grin on his face. “Jake turned on the tape player when he got the candle from the cabinet.”
“I still hate you,” I toss at him with a scowl.
He grins even bigger. “You love my ass and you know it.”
I stare at him for a moment too long, I know. “I do love you. You asshole.”
He sits quietly, only letting out little snarfles of laugher every once in a while like he’s still in the memory. “So, Eli kissed you that night, huh?” he finally asks.
“How did you know that? Did Eli tell you?”
“You told Lynda. She told me.”
I shake my head and throw up my hands. “Is nothing sacred?”
“Then I had to go and have a talk with him. I do remember that.”
“Wait…what?” I sit up straighter.
He shrugs like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing. “I had to find out what his intentions were. That’s all.”
“How did that conversation go?”
He scratches his head. “I vaguely remember charging up to him like a bull, bumping into him from behind, and asking point blank what his intentions were.”
“What did he say?”