“It’s not for sure they would’ve fucked with you,” I lie. “Some of those guys are nice enough. But there’s a couple...” My stare drifts out the window, where our headlights flash against the endless pines lining the road. “They would’ve really liked this car. Here, pull off over here.”
“Where?”
“Over here. Into the woods a little.”
Caleb slows down. “There’s not really anywhere to pulloff.”
“Yeah, no shit. That’s the point. Come on, pull off. There’s a little break in the trees right there.” I point.
Caleb slows and pulls the car where I say. We bounce up and down in our bucket seats as we start going off-road, but they did a good job with the shocks on this restoration, so it’s not too bad. We get all the way off the road and into the cover of trees before we have to stop.
“Good. We can hide the car here while we go back to get Z.”
“Is this really necessary?” Caleb asks, and I hear in his voice that he’s not questioning me. He’s trying to understand my world. Trying to see what I see.
“Do you like your hubcaps? Tires? Your engine? I’ve seen some of those guys strip a car flat in less than half an hour.”
“Point taken.”
“C’mon.”
I update Z as I push out of the car.
HARPER: My ride was a little too nice. Had to double back. Coming in thru the woods.
There’s no immediate response. Z will probably meet us. We both know these back woods like the back of our hands. Every path. Every shortcut and hiding place. Maybe he’s out there already and his phone ran out of battery.
It’s only twilight, so it’s easy enough to find the path we usually walk—around the sweetgum tree with its scaly, gray bark and up the small ridge before heading back down toward the park.
Caleb’s loud behind me—the only time I’ve ever seen him not look graceful. I know he jogs back at home and lifts weights in the garage, but I guess raw terrain is a little outside his wheelhouse.
“C’mon, city boy,” I can’t help razzing him, needing the levity to calm my nerves. “You really weren’t a Boy Scout, huh? Almost there. Keep up.”
His low chuckle helps. Just a little. Just enough that I can breathe past the tightness in my chest as the back end of the trailer park comes into view.
I put a hand out, and Caleb slows up beside me. We haven’t run into Z yet, so I text him again.
HARPER: U coming? We’re out back.
I wait. One minute. Two.
No response.
I roll my eyes. What the fuck, Z? It’s really not the time to fucking ghost me. I told him we were here. Did he forget to charge his phone? Get really into fighting one last boss? Jesus Christ.
“Stay here,” I whisper to Caleb, holding out a hand behind me, then I creep forward closer to the trailer.
But Caleb doesn’t stay. Of course, he doesn’t. I hear him moving behind me—not following my path but branching off toward the front of the trailer.
I want to hiss at him to get back here, but I can’t risk the noise. I just need to get Z and get the hell out of here.
I approach Z’s window at the back of the trailer, keeping low. The window’s cracked open, but the crate Z and I used to use to climb up is gone.
Fuck.
I rise up on my tiptoes, fingers barely catching the windowsill. Inside, I can see Z at his desk, headphones on, gaming, completely oblivious to the world.
Of course.Of fuckingcourse.