She wrapped her arms around herself, creating a shield. Now she couldn’t look at him. ‘It wasn’t only your fault. I shouldn’t have got so mad and I definitely shouldn’t have run off.’ She felt very adult saying this. ‘I thought I’d be able to find my way back but it got dark quicker than I expected.’
‘So what happened?’ he asked.
She told him.
‘Whoa. This place is messed up. What the hell were they doing?’
‘Just standing there.’ She giggled even though it wasn’t funny. ‘Like they were communing with nature.’
‘Shit. Maybe they were Devil-worshippers. Or pagans. You know about the symbols that were painted in those teachers’ blood.’
‘Please. Don’t.’
‘Sorry. But it really is freaky around here. Next time, get your dad to bring you to California. We’ll go to Big Sur. Do you surf?’
‘Oh yeah. We’re all big surfers in Albany.’ She smiled. ‘Parkour and surfing? You got mad skills, bro.’
‘You’re being extra funny today,’ he said.
‘I think the stress has broken my brain.’
‘Anyway.’ He stuck out a hand. ‘Still friends?’
She went to shake his hand but then he withdrew it and said, ‘Why are we acting like we’re doing a business deal? Come here.’
He pulled her into a hug. It was nice. All the tension inside her melted away, the knots coming loose. It was one of the best hugs she’d ever had.
They walked on.
‘Can I ask you a question?’ she said. ‘Have you come out to your parents?’
‘Ha. I could bring a boyfriend home and I doubt they’d notice. I guess it will dawn on them someday, but they’re so wrapped up in their stupid serial-killer shit they barely notice anything I do.’
‘What about the boy you like? Glen, is that his name? Do you have a plan for how you’re going to snare him?’
Ryan found that hilarious. ‘Snare!’
They carried on like this for a while, coming up with a plan for how Ryan was going to ask Glen out. For the first time on this stupid holiday, Frankie felt properly happy. Properly herself.
The path had taken them up a little hill so they could see the lake behind them; it now ran downhill, towards another part of the lake. The trees here were spaced out, letting the sun through, so she didn’t feel creeped out or afraid. They talked for a while about Ryan’s parents and how one day Ryan would be grown-up and they would regret neglecting him, and Frankie talked about her parents’ divorce and how hard it had been at first, especially moving to a new country, and it was one of the best conversations she could remember having. She felt like she could really be herself with Ryan, more so than with any of her friends back home, and way more than she could be with her mum or dad. It was all going so well.
And then they heard the voices.
Ahead of them, the trees ended and gave way to a flat area on the edge of the lake. Frankie wasn’t sure what to call it – a cove? – but it was a pretty spot, secluded and quiet.
Ryan and Frankie stood concealed by trees. Over in the cove, two people were sitting on a large rock and another was standing beside it. They all had their backs to where Frankie and Ryan stood.
Then the one who was standing turned to the side and walked around the edge of the rock. From his body shape it became clear it was a man. The two who were seated turned their heads to watch him.
Frankie gasped and clutched Ryan’s arm.
They were wearing masks.
‘What the fuck?’ said Ryan.
‘It’s them,’ she said. ‘This is who I saw last night.’
They were too far away for her to make out the details of the masks, but they were clearly animals. One was a black bird, most likely a crow. Yes, a crow. Frankie squinted. The other sitting figure’s mask was, what? A dog or a fox. The one who was standing wore a greyish-white mask. It wasn’t a sheep, though. She saw that now. It wasn’t a devil either. It was a goat.
Frankie’s insides had turned to jelly. She wanted to turn and run. But she also wanted proof. Something to show her dad or the police.
Because the clothes two of these masked figures were wearing were familiar. The goat was wearing a black track top with stripes up the sleeves. The fox had on a faded orange T-shirt with cream piping around the neck. The first time she’d seen the T-shirt, it had stuck in Frankie’s mind because it looked like something from a nineties fashion museum. The kind of thing her mum had worn before she had Frankie.