Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(66)

So I’m trying. I’m really, really trying. Whether it’s out at the sports bar playing darts or hanging on the beach at a bonfire, I’ve been working to make inroads in recent weeks. Most of Cooper’s guy friends—Tate, Chase, Wyatt—seem to have completely warmed up to me. We even went out for dinner one night with Chase and his boyfriend, a cute guy named Alec who also goes to Garnet. Except they don’t count, because they’re not the ones I need to win over. That would be the gang, the inner circle.

Aside from Steph, who continues to be an ally, I can’t seem to crack the iron curtain that is the Alana and Heidi blockade. And while Evan hasn’t been overtly hostile lately, it seems he’s opted for the silent approach where I’m concerned. If you can’t say anything nice, and all that.

Which is why I thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity for a more intimate get-together. Just the gang. S’mores, scary movies, maybe a little Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever. Bonding stuff and all that jazz.

So of course, by midafternoon the scattered showers predicted for this evening turn into severe thunderstorm and tornado warnings throughout the Carolinas.

Awesome. Even the weather is against me.

An hour ago, Cooper and Evan left to help Levi batten down the hatches at one of his construction sites. So now I’m sitting here at their house with ten pounds of cold buffalo wings and cheesy garlic bread, and beyond the sliding glass doors, the sky grows gray and foreboding over the bay. Without much else to do, and because I happen to love storms—there’s something about the fierce, electric anticipation of chaos—I open the back door to let the cool air in and then curl up on the couch with some homework. The TV is on quietly in the background, turned to the local news, where the weather people are standing in front of a radar image awash in red and orange, tossing around words like hunker down.

I get my anthropology reading done and am watching some clips on my laptop for my media culture class when a huge crack of lightning flashes outside and the resulting thunder shakes the house. The startling barrage knocks the wind right out of me. Daisy, who was curled up under a blanket at my feet, bolts out of the room for her favorite hiding place under Cooper’s bed. Rain begins to pour outside in a sudden deluge that swallows the horizon behind a silver curtain. I jump off the couch and quickly shut the sliding door, then wipe up the water that snuck inside with a dishrag.

It’s then I hear it, a faint wailing in the distance.

“Daisy?” I shout, glancing around. Had she run outside when I wasn’t looking?

Nope. A quick peek into Cooper’s room reveals her lying under the bed, front paws flat on the hardwood, with her little face squished between them.

“Was that you crying, little one?” I ask, only to jump when I hear it again. It’s more of a scream than a wail, and it’s definitely coming from outside.

When it storms you can hear her screaming …

My pulse accelerates as Evan’s words buzz around in my head. Was he serious about this place being haunted? What the hell had he called her again—

“Patricia?” I say feebly, my cautious gaze darting around the room. “Is that you?”

The light fixture above my head flickers.

A startled yelp rips out of my throat, causing Daisy to crawl backward and disappear deeper under the bed.

I leave Cooper’s room, heart pounding. Candles. I should probably find some candles in case the power goes out. Because nothing sounds less appealing to me than sitting in the dark listening to the shrieks of a century-old dead child.

As if on cue, the shrill noises start up again, a cacophony of sound mingling with the crashes of thunder outside the old beach house.

“Patricia,” I call out. Steady voice now. Hands, not so much. “Look, let’s be cool, okay? I know it’s probably not fun being dead, but that doesn’t mean you have to scream your lungs out. If you use your indoor voice, I’m happy to sit down and listen to whatever you—”

Another scream pierces the air.

“Or not,” I backpedal. “Fine. You win, Patricia. Just keep scaring the crap out of me, then.”

In the kitchen, I start opening lower cabinets in search of candles or flashlights. I find a pack of tea lights and breathe in relief. Good. Now I just need to grab one of the gazillion lighters on the coffee table and I’m all set.

On my way back to the living room, a buzzing noise catches my attention. I think it might be my phone, until I realize it’s still in my pocket. I follow the sound to the kitchen counter where Cooper’s phone has now stopped vibrating. Shit. He’d forgotten his phone. With the screen still lit, I see he has several missed calls and text messages. I don’t look long enough to read them, not wanting to invade Cooper’s privacy, but I do note Steph’s and Alana’s names.

Given the number of calls and texts, it could be urgent. I’d get in touch with Evan to give him the heads-up, but I don’t have his number and can’t unlock Cooper’s phone to get it. If it’s important, the girls will try Evan eventually, I reason. So I mind my business and go back to my homework.

But the buzzing continues. For another half hour, about every five minutes, Cooper’s phone rattles on the kitchen counter. Fuck it. I grab the phone the next time a call comes in and this time I answer it.

“Hello, Steph?” I say, reading her name on the screen.