“What do you mean?”
“Did you get the Mr.Perfect act? The aw-shucks smile?”
I blink, unsure of what to say. Everett seemed genuine enough. Cocky, but genuine.
“Yeah,” she continues, “Everett loves putting on that whole ‘golden boy’ routine—charming, polite, helpful. Everyone falls for it. I bet you’ll fall for it.”
“And you think it’s an act?” I finally find my voice.
“It’s exhausting, that’s what it is.” Nikki swings her legs off the couch and sits up. “Trust me, I’ve lived with it my whole life. It’s exhausting watching someone pretend to be flawless all the time. I say, embrace the flaws.”
I shift uncomfortably. The jealous little sister syndrome in this one is strong.
“Perfect’s no fun. It’s boring, right, Con?” she calls toward my cousin.
He doesn’t take his gaze off his video game. “Sure, Nik. Whatever you say.”
There’s something in the way she looks at me now, like she’s daring me to agree with her. I cross my arms, feeling defensive even though I don’t want to be. “I don’t know. I don’t think being a good person is boring.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “You gotta loosen up your cousin, Con. She’s too tense.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “Or you could quit grilling someone you’ve known for, like, five seconds.”
Nikki shrugs, unbothered, then hops to her feet. “I’m gonna go find Jazzy.”
Once she’s gone, Connor glances over with a faint smile. “Ignore her. She’s mostly harmless. She just likes pushing people’s buttons.”
“Mostly harmless doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Nah, we’ve known her forever. She likes to act tough, but she’s all talk. Trust me.”
“Okay,” I say, even as it’s becoming glaringly obvious that I can’t trust a single person in Starling.
six
The Rain King
School winds up being, well, school. Nothing earth-shattering happens that third week of September. I easily make up all the work I missed by starting late. I ignore Jasmine’s constant pleas to help her with her “mission.” I fight the urge to gawk at Everett. I go to classes. I go home. I don’t get too friendly with anyone, not even Mar. She invites me to take photographs with her at the railroad tracks this weekend, but I turn her down, saying I still have too much homework to catch up on.
It’s better this way. In less than ten months, I’ll graduate, take my diploma, run away from Tennessee, and never look back. So, really, there’s no sense in creating any meaningful bonds.
On Saturday morning, I’m jolted awake from another nightmare. I’ve gotten good at being quiet about them. This time when I wake, with my heart beating like mad under my thin T-shirt and a gasp caught in my throat, Jasmine is still bundled under her covers, breathing softly.
I slip out of bed and do as I’ve done every day since I arrived here: leave the house without a sound, then find the path through the woods. At least it’s not at the crack of dawn today. My nightmare roused me at a respectable eight o’clock.
It’s chilly and overcast as I walk, but I welcome it, dragging the cold air into my lungs as if it’ll help cleanse the nightmare from my mind. The dreams—memories, whatever they are—didn’t come this often when I lived in Allentown. Maybe they’re happening more frequently because I’m back here.
Here.I hate being here. Even when I lived with Gran, I always felt like there was something tethering me to Starling. I worry that when I do finally leave again, even when my father is dead and buried, I still won’t be able to escape this place. I wish I could untangle whatever ties hold me here, but I have a fear that I never will.
Maybe Ishouldhelp Jasmine look for the bodies.
Maybe the reason I can’t escape is becausetheynever did.
They were supposedly dumped in Sturgeon Lake, but no one ever found them, and Dad refused to speak of them. He didn’t give any interviews at all. He never had a trial because he pled guilty. At the sentencing hearing, he didn’t utter a single word—he stared straight ahead, placid and stone-faced, like some freaking wise oracle. Because of that asshole move, there are six families who never recovered their loved ones and will never have peace.
So maybe, neither should I.
The skies are threatening rain, but that’s not why I turn around and head home. I don’t want to be in these woods. Nottheseones. There’s another forest calling for me this morning.