You Can't Catch Me(63)

I looked down at the crowd. There he was, all tall and gangly, with a knit cap resting far back on his head. He was searching the room, looking for someone.

“Did you invite him?”

She nodded. They’d been in touch, obviously, but for how long? Why hadn’t she ever mentioned it? Why hadn’t he? Were they dating?

I stopped my spinning brain. I didn’t care if Kiki dated Covington. He was a good guy, but I had zero romantic interest in him. It was the lack of input that was bugging me. I could hear Liam’s admonishment: You can’t control for all outcomes.

Oh, but I wanted to.

I forced a smile onto my face. “That’s great, Kiki. Good for you.”

She looked away. “It’s stupid.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m doing that exchange thing next year. It can’t go anywhere.”

What the hell? “What exchange thing?”

“I told you. I’m doing a year at Ohio State.”

I felt queasy, though I hadn’t yet had that much to drink. I had zero memory of Kiki telling me about it. But that didn’t surprise me, in some way. We’d learned in the LOT that it was easier to blame the other person for something than tell them the truth. You just weren’t listening to me was a frequent ploy used in the Upper Camp to get away with minor infractions, right along with But you said yes when I asked you. Lying was so ingrained as forbidden, and the punishment for being caught so severe, that the adults mostly chose to believe that they’d forgotten over the possibility that we’d disobey them deliberately.

Or Kiki actually had told me, and I’d been so wrapped up in my own shit that I hadn’t listened. That was a possibility too.

“You’re leaving for real?” I said.

“Just for a bit. And not until the fall.”

I pulled her to me. She still smelled like our childhood, as if she were carrying the Land of Todd around with her wherever she went. And maybe she was. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“What am I going to do without you? I just got you back.”

“I won’t be far. And I’ll be back.”

“You better,” I said, then pulled away. “Now go find Covington.”

After I’ve finished looking around and collected everything there is to find in Jessie’s tent, including a cell phone I’ve never seen, I leave the tent, dip into mine, and quickly fill my backpack with some necessities. Then I climb out and hoist the bag onto my back. I pick up the third paddleboard, loop the life vest around my neck, and tuck the paddle under my arm. The board is heavy, and I hate carrying things long distances, but it’s only about a quarter of a mile to the beach. The path is an old ski trail, not properly tended, and there are downed trees across it every hundred feet or so. I walk into the woods to go around them, breathing in through my nose as the weight starts to pull at me. The last part of the path is a hill. I drop the board and hurry up it, leaving my pack and paddle at the top, then return down to retrieve the board.

I continue past my stuff and reach the beach just as JJ and Jessie are ready to push off. I was worried about being too far behind them, but the adrenaline coursing through me made swift work of the path.

“I need to go back for my paddle and pack,” I say, motioning to the trees behind us.

“Should we wait?” Jessie asks.

“Start. I’ll catch up.”

JJ gives me a look. “You okay?”

My face feels red, like I’ve been drinking or caught a bad sunburn. “Yeah, of course. I just hate carrying stuff. Plus, it’s hot.”

“It’ll be cooler out on the lake.”

“Get going, then.”

I watch them for a minute as they leave. JJ explains how to paddle to Jessie, and they soon have a good rhythm going. The lake is glass, like it gets most afternoons. There’s no one on the beach, and though I can hear the faraway buzz of a motorboat, I can’t see it. The scene looks like one of the postcards you can buy in the gift shop.

I hustle back to the trees to recover my pack and paddle, then rush down to the water once more. Beads of sweat are running down my back, and my hands are slick as I put the board in the water. I drop it, splashing myself, then almost lose my balance as I scramble onto it. When I’m finally situated, kneeling in the center of the board, I push off, using the paddle to get past the rocks before I stand up.

JJ and Jessie are not that far ahead of me, and once I stand, it only takes a few minutes of hard paddling to reach them, my shoulder initially protesting, then warming up and settling in. I slide in between JJ and Jessie.

Or should I call her Molly?

She doesn’t look like a Molly. As I watch her paddle, I wonder how often she goes by that name. Are names part of the game for her? And what does she call this game? This finding and frauding of Jessicas? What made her like this? Did she belong to a family of grifters? Was she simply the bad seed in an ordinary house? Did something happen to her when she was a child? I’m old enough to admit that I’m the way I am because of Todd. And what has she been doing with us all this time? I have my theories, but that’s all they are.

“We’re going all the way across, yes?” JJ says.

“Huh?”

“The lake? We’re going to the other side, right?”