Bitter Falls (Stillhouse Lake)(28)

“You didn’t hear? There’s a big-ass party tonight at Killing Rock! You’re goin’, right?”

“What? No!” I haven’t even heard about a party. Nobody has called me. Nobody texted me. And since Mom keeps us off social media, I didn’t even have that public heads-up. “Uh, I mean, I wasn’t invited.”

“Not an invitation kind of party,” Vee says. “You just . . . go. Like a rave. You know?”

I’ve never been to a rave either. I’ve only been to a few parties, honestly, and mostly those were closely supervised things. And I took presents to them. God, I’m sixteen and a total loser. Yeah, okay, I’ve been out to Killing Rock before. That’s a place where kids hang out and get up to all kinds of stuff, and I went there with Dahlia a few times. But never in the dark.

“You’re not goin’?” Vee seems disappointed. Disappointed in me. “I thought you’d be happy to get out from under and have some fun.”

Vee’s definition of fun and mine are probably not the same things, I think. But still, I’m intrigued. “Who’s supposed to be there?”

“Everybody from town who’s our age. Norton’s the town close to here, right?”

I nod. I wonder if she’s been there yet. Then I wonder why she’s here at all. I hope it’s to see me, but honestly: I’m not sure. But what if it’s just that simple? That Vee has a thing for me?

I don’t know how I feel about it. Flattered, I guess? Definitely interested. But there’s something weird and out of control about this. Am I in trouble here? I don’t know. But now I’m kind of trapped. I let Vee in. It’s my fault she’s here. I could have told Mom at any time, and I didn’t.

I could go tell Mom now, but then I’d have to explain how Vee got in, and Vee would probably say she was here before tonight, and . . . I don’t want that discussion. And . . . and I don’t want Vee to be disappointed in me.

It’s easier just to say, “Uh, okay. We can go, I guess. For a little while. It’s not very far, just around the lake. But I’m not going to get drunk or whatever.”

She’s already nodding, and her shaggy, dark hair flops down over her bright eyes. There’s color in her cheeks, and I get a flash of teeth as she smiles. “Too scared of your momma?” She keeps it to a careful, low whisper.

“Damn right I am,” I whisper back. “What time is the party?”

“Right about now,” Vee says, and points out the window. I ease up and take a look. I can just see the end of the lake where Killing Rock juts out over the water, and sure enough, there’s a flicker of a bonfire down by the shore. And I can hear music drifting over the water.

I know it’s a bad idea, but even if some of the bullies are there, I can deal with that. Unlike school, I can leave whenever I want, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a little fun for a change.

Yeah, I’m making all the excuses to myself. I know I shouldn’t go. But . . . I never do what I want to do. I’ve been so good. And maybe being a little bad, especially if we’re going to leave this stupid town anyway . . . maybe that’s okay. Just once.

We use stuffed animals and pillows under the covers to make it look like I’m there. It’s pretty convincing. Vee finds some dramatic glittery purple eye shadow and demands I let her do my makeup. I sit down, and she kneels in front of me. It feels weird and intimate, and I close my eyes and try not to jump at the featherlight touch of the brush across my lids. Then her fingers, blending it with expert little sweeps. “Hold still,” she tells me, and I hear her cracking open another shadow container. “I’m good at smoky eyes. You just hang on there. Trust me.”

It isn’t that I do trust her, exactly, but there’s something about feeling taken care of that’s so . . . easy. I sit and let her do my makeup, and I’m secretly enjoying the way she’s touching me, the warmth of her pressing in between my thighs. It’s not sexual, but it’s sexy, and I have to swallow nervously. “Almost there?” I ask.

“One sec . . .” Another long, deliberate pull of her thumbs across my eyelids. “Perfect.”

I open my eyes and she’s right there, bending over and staring into my eyes. For a heart-stopping few seconds I think she’s going to kiss me, but then she winks and puts a hand mirror between us.

I look good. I mean, wow. She’s amazing.

We get dressed; I keep my back to her while I change, but I wonder if she sneaks looks. My skin tingles, and I feel awkward and off balance and nearly fall over trying to pull on my distressed black jeans. When I finally turn around, Vee’s leaning against the wall openly staring. Her arms are crossed. It’s a little disorienting to see my clothes on her, like looking at a funhouse mirror. But great too. Like we’re sharing something secret. I feel breathless at that. I’ve wanted to feel part of something outside my family for so long, and for a while I had Dahlia, but . . . that’s over, and I’ve been so alone.

Vee makes me feel seen. Present. Wanted. Even cool for a change. And I need that so much.

She grabs my hand as she ducks through the open window and outside, and pulls me along with her. Not that I’m resisting, really.

Vee Crockett is maybe the most interesting girl I’ve met, ever. She’s dangerous and wild and sleek and unpredictable, and she makes me feel like I don’t know what’s going to happen from one second to the next. Growing up like I did, where there were no good surprises . . . it feels like being on the best amusement park ride in the world.