Page 66 of Playing By Their Rules

Taking a deep breath, I say, “Mina, I appreciate the effort. Truly. But you can’t expect me to be able to go along with a surprise trip that lasts multiple days.”

Her eyes narrow at me.

Before she can respond, I decide to make this more about a failing of myself and less about not wanting to be with her. “And to be honest, I don’t love trying to pee in the woods. Rustic living isn’t for everyone, you know? I’m sorry it’s not for me. But I just had a brainstorm. We could do a staycation at our apartment. We could invite Bradley, or not, up to you. We could play Knights of Incor and have yummy food delivered.”

She looks tempted for about half a second before shaking her head. “Let’s do a hike. You’ll see that you want to stay. Come on, shoes on, let’s go.”

Short of making a run for it, I’m not sure how to get myself out of this situation.

The hike is…weird. There aren’t any trails out here, it’s just forest. We have to force a path through the overgrown vegetation, and within half an hour, our arms are covered in scratches.

“How about we go see Percy and Tara’s place?” Mina suggests.

“Sure,” I say. I don’t sound enthusiastic, because I’m not. And I’m tired of faking it just to keep Mina happy.

We know the way easily, having gone back and forth so many times before. The trees have grown, but the large boulders scattered about still serve as landmarks.

Mina walks up to one of the tree stumps and gives me a triumphant grin. “I found it!”

“Found what?” I ask, waving a buzzing fly away from my face. I’m sweaty and tired and uncomfortable, not to mention uneasy at Mina’s behavior, and as soon as I get back to San Esteban, I’m locking myself in my air-conditioned apartment for the next two weeks.

“Our initials, remember?”

I walk over to where she’s standing, and sure enough, there are our initials carved into the wood. M + M, BFF.

“Remember when we did this?” she asks.

I really don’t, but I nod and say, “Yeah.”

“This is where we took that selfie—remember? The last time we came here, right before we moved to San Esteban.”

“Right,” I say. We still have the photo—it’s framed and sitting in our living room. In the photo, though, there’s Percy’s house in the background. Of course, the house is gone now.

I never wanted to put the photo up, but Mina wanted to remember the place we were never going back to, and in the end, I capitulated.

Like I always do.

I go along with what she wants because I’m afraid of upsetting her…but look where that has gotten me. A surprise “vacation” in a condemned cabin out in the middle of nowhere, with my roommate and former foster sister who may or may not be having some kind of mental episode.

“Let’s go see the house,” Mina says. When I look pointedly at the empty area past the stump, she adds, “I mean, what’s left of it.”

“Okay,” I say.

We hike over to the old place. The garage is still up, but only half of it, the edges charred and the roof dipping downward toward the husk of an old car.

“Nobody cleared off the property afterward?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I guess not. If I were Tara, I would’ve abandoned this place and never looked back.”

I avoid looking at the mound of gray dirt where the house once stood, but Mina walks right over and stands on it with her hands on her hips like a queen surveying her conquered lands. She says, “The place was ash before the fire department could get here.”

“Really?” I hang back. Someone died in this mess. I cannot imagine the horror of it. It feels wrong to be here, like we’re tourists on the world’s most macabre vacation.

It’s also a little like Mina is dancing on Percy’s grave.

“Yeah, really,” she says. “It took them forever to respond.”

I stare at her. A low thrum of unease is growing louder in my head. “How do you know that?”

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