“… lonely,” Logan finished.
Her eyes were closed when she said it. The word sounded too natural on her tongue. Too quick. Ashley recognized the same look on Logan’s face that she’d seen in the mirror for months. They were adrift in the dark, senselessly paddling for shore.
“Yeah,” Ashley said.
In the main room, someone thumped into a wall. Ashley recognized John’s voice bellowing something about my truck or my dad. In approximately thirty seconds, he and Paul would start throwing punches. Fran would cry because she’d told John not to get so worked up. Bug would shut off the music. The party would be over.
Ashley took a sip of warm beer.
It already felt like it was over.
Ashley hooked Logan’s arm over her shoulders. “Hey, let’s get you some water.”
“Get off, straighty,” Logan moaned.
Ashley shook her head, biting back a quiet laugh. She poured out the rest of her beer and walked Logan out of the cabin toward the lake. She’d babysat Fran and Bug at a thousand of these parties; she was used to the fussy and unmanageable. The farther they walked from the cabin, the more sober she felt.
The walk had the opposite effect on Logan.
“Where’re you taking me?” she said, all in one dump of words.
“To get water. And fresh air.” Ashley readjusted Logan’s arm on her shoulder. “Then sleep.”
Logan’s head lolled back against Ashley’s shoulder, eyes closed. Her smoky gray eyeshadow was cloudy with sweat now. “We’re going so far,” she slurred. “Ohmygod, are you the murderer?”
“That’s not funny.”
They reached the lakeshore and Ashley propped Logan against a tree trunk. She filled her empty beer can with lake water and tilted it against Logan’s lips. Logan drank slowly until her nose wrinkled up and she spat at Ashley’s feet.
“Tastes like pee and grass,” she said. “I’d rather have a hangover.”
“C’mon,” Ashley whispered. She pressed the can to Logan’s lips again. “You don’t want your dads to see you hungover.”
Logan waved a dismissive hand. “My dads don’t care.”
Something in the way she said this made Ashley think she wished they did.
Farther down the shore, Ashley spotted Elexis and Nick making their way to the water. She waved them down. “Hey, I’m taking her to the truck. Meet me there when you’re ready.”
Nick gave her a thumbs-up.
Ashley helped Logan to her feet. In the dark, they walked back to the gravel clearing where the trucks were parked. Ashley pulled a sleeping bag from the storage box in the back of the Ford and laid it across the bed of the truck. It was tradition to camp out for a few hours on nights when she was still too drunk to drive home. Logan was already most of the way passed out as Ashley tucked her in, muttering something about calling a “yeehaw Lyft.” By the time Ashley climbed into a second sleeping bag, Logan was out cold. The quiet of the woods settled in and Ashley’s heart stopped racing.
She’d spent countless nights in this truck bed, in this clearing, in this sleeping bag looking at the stars with Tristan. She’d spent more time than she could measure lying with him in silence just like this. She’d never felt as far away from him as she did now. She’d never felt so far away from everyone.
She would find him. They would have more nights under the stars.
They had skies left to see.
Interlude
The host is getting stronger.
Waiting in the woods tonight is his idea.