Slasher Summer(12)
Tiffany’s toes touched the sandy bottom of the lake and she bounced for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness as she watched the shore. Jen came out of the cabin’s back door, towing Carrie by the hand behind her. Tiffany smacked the water as if she could send a tidal wave to wash them away. It looked like Carrie was staying.
Freddy put down the bag of chips and threw his arms around Carrie. Carrie hugged him back. Was she wiping away a tear? She spoke, and the word allergies drifted down to the lake. Tiffany snorted. It was just like Carrie to deploy the sweet-and-innocent act. Getting choked up about their reunion and then disingenuously pretending it was just pollen in the air.
Patrick abandoned the barbecue to hug Carrie, too. Tiffany smacked the water again. Traitors. They wouldn’t be welcoming Carrie with open arms if she’d tried to steal their partners. Okay, she and Jason had been on a break at the time, but everyone at Cedar Lake High had known he was hers. And Tiffany had thought she and Carrie were friends, and girl code dictated that friends’ exes were off-limits. Yet the bookish Goody Two-shoes had dared to send him that photo. Served her right when it had leaked and a hundred color copies had been posted all over school like a garage sale flyer.
In Tiffany’s opinion, Carrie should’ve leaned into her new reputation. She could’ve had any guy she wanted, even before the photo. Every straight guy aged fifteen to twenty—and face it, any of the old pervs in town—would’ve loved to brag they’d been the one to deflower the professional virgin.
Just not Jason. Tiffany couldn’t believe Carrie had the gall to go for him in the first place. He’d never date the girl from the skids with the wacko religious mom. And Carrie so obviously had daddy issues. That was why she’d joined the Jumpscare Society. During their first meeting, she’d told them her dad was into horror films and she wanted to have something to share with him. As if the father who lived so many area codes away with his new family would pay attention to her because of some silly movies. Tiffany would’ve warned any guy to steer clear of a girl so hungry for male validation. Not unless he wanted his bunny boiled.
“I have to get some stuff from my car,” Carrie said, and she disappeared back into the cabin. Freddy followed her, probably in search of more snacks. Tiffany swam a few more laps, reluctant to rejoin the others. Jen came down to the beach, her arms full of firewood, and began to arrange it in the fire pit. Tiffany waved, but Jen didn’t respond. Too occupied with her new BFF, it seemed. Jen grinned as Carrie reappeared through the cabin’s back door about ten minutes later and joined her at the fire pit. She held two bottles of beer and proffered one to Jen. She hadn’t brought a third, Tiffany noted sourly, even though the brightness of her pink bikini was probably visible from shore.
Jen hunched over the fire pit, her face illuminated by the tiny flame she’d coaxed out of the kindling. In a heartbeat the fire roared to life. Carrie was like that flame, Tiffany thought. The bright, seemingly innocent spark that would burn everything down if you let it.
“It’s alive!” Jen roared, like Dr. Frankenstein. She grabbed Carrie’s hand and triumphantly skipped around the fire. Beer sloshed out of the bottles in their hands. To Tiffany’s annoyance, Carrie had loosened up, tossing her head back with laughter as Jen released her hand to wave her arms in a mock pagan dance. Carrie was never going to leave now.
“Hot girl summer, bitches!” Jen yelled.
“No, Slasher Summer!” Carrie said, laughing.
Jen raised her bottle in a toast. “To Slasher fucking Summer.” She tilted her head back and drank thirstily.
Jen noticed Tiffany then, watching them in the water like a curious mermaid. “Come on, Tiff, we need a third witch for our coven,” she called out.
Tiffany shook her head, not ready to return to land yet. She splashed away from the shore and flipped onto her back, waiting for Jason to come down to the beach. He’d see how much fun she was having without him, and how good she looked, too. And if the new bikini wasn’t enough to entice him, she still had Clive in her back pocket. He’d promised to take her to that trendy new tapas place when she returned to campus next week. Jason had never been into classy restaurants. He preferred grubby mom-and-pop cafés, where he’d analyze every cringy aspect as if he were studying for an exam. Places with heart, he always said. Heart and menus printed on cheap paper place mats didn’t get you Instagram likes. You couldn’t be a queen if no one envied you.
Floating on the water, Tiffany gazed upward and let serenity wash over her. The stars were starting to show themselves, like someone had dipped a paintbrush in glitter and spread it across the sky. Jen’s cackling laughter and Patrick’s calm and steady conversation lifted her spirits. The sound of her old friends and the lake’s embrace brought her back to those good times by the cabin, and she started to feel a little kindlier toward everyone.
She didn’t even mind the occasional peal of Carrie’s voice, clear and pure as a bell. Well, Carrie could have a go at Jason if she wanted. She could try defusing the bomb he’d become, bless her heart. Tiffany knew she would never succeed. Carrie didn’t have what it took to make a guy like Jason fall to his knees for her.
And then something clamped around Tiffany’s ankle and yanked her down into the lake’s cold depths.
Tiffany tried to scream. Tried. The lake smothered her voice. She struggled as water flooded her throat and nose, terrified it would fill her straining lungs, too. Whatever held her ankle was too strong, a claw-like grip that dug into her flesh like a—