Page 23 of Kiss Slay Replay

A big fucking problem.

“Danny. I saw something—someone—in the woods right before we met. I didn’t think it was real because, I don’t know. How could it be real? I didn’t think it could be real. I…I…”

“What are you saying? Who did you see?”

Before I can answer, there is a scream so sharp it severs any thread of denial, and the whole world comes apart at the seams.

7

“Who did you see?” Danny repeats.

“A figure. A…” I teeter in my heels. I feel like I’m melting. The anxiety is so fierce, it’s turning my bones to rubber. “It was this figure in the woods standing far enough away I couldn’t really see them, but I know they were wearing all black and they had on a mask. A balaclava and—”

“A balaclava?” Danny gets his phone out of his suit pocket. “Whoa. Okay. Okay. Let’s go. We should go.”

“Go where?”

“To find Jason. To find Steph.” He starts down the path, dragging me behind him. “To the reception hall. There’s probably a landline there.”

“I’m not trying to freak you out,” I say, attempting to resurrect my denial just to feel some semblance of safety again. “I’m not even sure I really saw it. But…”

“But what?” he says, stopping.

“The mask had a zipper glued over the mouth and these fake eyeballs near where its real eyes should be.”

“Real eyes?”

“I couldn’t see. It was too far. And…and too fucking weird! I didn’t…I thought I imagined it.”

He stares at the plastic eyeball between his fingers. “Guess not.”

“It could have been a caterer. Or a hiker. Or…”

He hands me the eyeball and checks his phone again. “Which direction did it come from?”

“The figure?”

“No. That scream.”

“Um, I’m not sure. Over there, maybe? Toward the lake? The cabins? I…I don’t know.”

“Hey.” He reaches out, wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. I didn’t even realize I was crying. The intimacy of the gesture slows my heart rate, pauses the whirring of blood in my ears. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?”

He exhales, rubs his jaw—a nervous tick. A few minutes ago, we were flirting and kissing, and I was worrying about the wrong things. Now we stand on this path looking around, at a loss, the stress of the moment debilitating. I turn the eyeball over in my hand. Whatever’s happening is too real to reject but not quite real enough for me to fully accept, to wrap my head around. I’m in limbo.

There’s another scream. This one muffled. Closer.

A door slams behind us. I turn and my heel snaps and I fall. I land hard on my hip and my hand, my palm scraping the dirt.

There’s no one around. Not that we can see. But the door slams again. Again.

Again.

It must be coming from one of the cabins.

“Are you okay?” Danny says, hoisting me up.