Page 2 of Last Summer
Danica slips into the driver seat. Without another word, I walk around the car and climb into the passenger seat.
“Wait up!” A voice calls from behind us.
I stifle the groan rising in my throat as the backdoor opens and our persistent third wheel slides inside. Her floral perfume stench immediately fills the car as she bobs into the middle seat of the back bench, placing herself right between Danica and I.I flip down the visor and my eyes meet hers in the mirror. She winks.
“Where to?” she asks.
I shrug as I inhale the minty smoke. “Pharmacy? My house? One of yours?” I blow the smoke out the open window as Danica starts driving.
Rolling down the window, I take a deep breath in. My car smells like us—weed, sex, and the unmistakable scent of cheap perfume that makes me want to heave. Danica smiles at me before pulling out of the hidden drive way we just fucked in. The rest of our friends will probably stay back at the cabin and party for the rest of the night. I turn up the music. ‘Little Death’ by The Neighborhood pounds through the speakers. Danica’s hair dances in the wind, and I just sit, in my half daze, enjoying this moment for exactly what it is.
Not sure if it’s the pills I took, the weed I smoked, the booze we all downed, or the combo of it all that has me so fucked, but I'm feeling barely tethered to Earth. The trees blur past us as we drive down the mountain, my hand resting on Danica’s thigh, feeling the fullness of her flesh as she sings along to the song. My phone vibrates again and I look down.
A: I miss your dick already.
Another vibration.
A: You know I’m a better fuck than she is.
I smirk to myself and close my eyes, letting the memories flash across my mind. My body feels out of itself like—like I’m sinking into my leather seat. I stick my hand out the window and thewind rips what remained of the cigarette from my fingers. In my fucked up state, everything is moving too fast for me to grasp. But I won’t let her slip from my grasp.
As fucked up as it might be, Danica is mine.
I see the lights. Then I hear the screech of rubber, and the piercing scream from Danica. I feel my head hit the glass as the car swerves. And then everything turns sideways.
One roll.
Two.
And then we come to an abrupt stop. My body is flung forward from the impact. Everything’s numb.Shouldn’t there be pain?
“D-” I try to speak, to move, but I don’t feel anything at all. My body fails to react, but my ears register the sound of soft cries.
Danica.
Why is she screaming?
Is she in pain?
Why can’t I move?
My vision begins to blur just as my body sinks further into itself. I try to speak again but the words never come as my world goes quiet.
Chapter one
THE STRANGERS
DANICA
OneYearLater
Saturday
Coming back here always makes me anxious. It’s been nearly an entire year, and yet, the pain of his death still feels fresh. Like a wound that became infected and now refuses to scab over. Time heals all wounds, my ass. All time does is turn the burning wounds of sorrow into festering scars that rot you from the inside out.
That’s exactly what Jonathan’s death did to me. I had a bright future, an athletic scholarship to a good college, and a large group of friends. Then he died and my world collapsed around me. I’ve barely even talked to my family over the past several months. My sister grew so fed up with me that she stopped returning my texts. They said it was an accident, that he was driving under the influence and swerved too late. He wasn’t wearing a seat belt and was ejected. He died before the ambulance arrived, they said. They said a lot of things while I just sat in stunned silence. The funeral was the worst ofit. Everyone gave me their sympathy, but I didn’t want their prayers, I wanted things to go back to how they were before. His twin sister was apparently too upset to go. I wish I had thought of that. Now, nearly a year has passed and I’m just barely getting by. My part-time bartending position doesn’t even cover my half of the bills. It’s pitiful. At least my camming is more lucrative. It’s not the side hustle I thought I’d be doing at twenty, but it sure as shit is better than working several crap jobs and running myself ragged to make cash. I get off and I get cash. What’s not to love?
Plus, it led me here. The woods become more and more dense with each moment that passes us by. The green streaks of the looming evergreens rush past the window as we cruise down the twisty mountain highway. I received an invite to this exclusive content creators mountain retreat last month. The proximity to the location of Jonathan’s accident made me hesitant, but the promised payout and upfront deposit to my Cash App to show good faith were too hard to ignore. Plus, Abby also got the invite. It’s not like serial killers lure you out into the woods to murder you along with others,right?
