Page 9 of These Secret Years

I look deep into the hamper. There’s one more thing on the bottom—flat and shiny—and I reach for it.

Turns out, there is something I’d rather read a card trick book than look at.

“Nice.” Rodrigo grabs the large wall calendar with a naked woman on the front and holds it up to show everyone.

They all cheer and laugh, but I hear Sullivan’s laugh the loudest. Not because it necessarily is, but because despite all this, I’m still paying too much attention to him.

“This is awesome. Thanks, Gabe.”

“Enjoy,” the RA says.

As I’m trying to stuff everything back into the hamper, I call out, “So are we going for that walk or what?”

Chapter Three

SULLIVAN

As I check the time, it occurs to me that no one is expecting me to be anywhere. No matter how dark it is, no matter how late, which does feel a little more like freedom.

The night air is crisp and cool. The university is nestled in the middle of the northern Ozarks, and we’re further from sea level than I’m used to, so it’s chilly for early September. At least—for what I was expecting. Being from the Canadian border means I’m used to cold, but Missouri seemed so far south when I was told this was where I’d be attending school. Tonight, I bet the temperature isn’t all that different from home.

I have a good buzz from the whiskey the twins kept sneaking me, but I’m definitely not drunk. I’m just kind of…happy. Forced fun was actually fun, and exploring the campus at night with half the football team and a few other guys from my hall isn’t bad either.

After everyone went to their rooms to refresh and re-equip themselves for an adventure, we met up in the common room where Gabe was still cleaning up his snack table. He had his earbuds in and looked like he was still having a great time, giving us all a thumbs up like his work here was done.

Now, we’re entering the woods, using a combination of real and phone flashlights. The quarterback who won the tournament, Knight, has a mag light, and he’s walking beside me, asking a million and one questions that seem designed to prove I’m not actually from Sunrise Point.

I wasn’t convinced he was either, but his questions are incredibly detailed down to the always broken stoplight on Main Street and Shore.

“All right, fine,” I joke. “I believe you. You’ve at least been there.”

“I was born there,” he assures me.

“You were born at home? There’s no hospital. Don’t make me doubt you now.”

“I meant like—metaphorically.”

“Metaphoric birth. Okay. I guess that’s a thing.”

He sighs heavily, holding a branch out of the way so I can walk past him. “You’re right. Technically, I was born in Marquette.”

“Close enough,” I concede.

We’re in the middle of the pack of a dozen people. No one’s being quiet, so I’m less afraid of wildlife than I probably should be, but I’ve also always liked the woods at night. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Some place called The Front. I don’t know.”

“Did you know any of these guys before you came here?” I ask.

“No. But I’d heard about most of them. Especially the twins.”

“They’re funny.” The big twins are like giant marshmallows with resting bitch faces.

“They’re beasts,” he says.

Since they weigh nearly three-hundred pounds apiece, he’s likely right. Knight isn’t small either, but he’s not built like a tank the way the twins are. He’s got a leaner frame with muscle packed on like Deandre. He’s not as tall as my roommate, though. Six-two, maybe. The way I found him staring at me earlier was something I’d blown off until he dropped back from the crowd of others to walk with me. Now he’s more or less clearing my path, and I don’t get it.

I might be a music major, but I’m not small. I’m not weak, either. Compared to him, maybe. He might be able to bench press me. His attention is interesting, though. Focused. Mysterious. Or maybe that’s just the night pulling us deeper into the dark woods.