I was still hung up on what Lucas had said. Maybe I owed them an apology. For snapping, for being so rude, for — God, for so many things. But after tonight, there was a good chance I would never even see them again.

Maybe it was for the best. We were too volatile together; emotions were too high. They made me feel like I had no idea what to say or how to act. Everything was so confusing with them and it was probably my fault.

After all, I was the one who couldn’t communicate, who’d ghosted them without notice.

Apparently, plans had been made while I was lost in my thoughts. I returned from the car to find everyone looking at me expectantly.

“What about you, Jess?” Alex said. “You coming along or what?”

“Depends where you’re going,” I said, arms folded.

Candace shrugged. “Anywhere is better than sitting on the side of the road all night, right?”

At this point, I wasn’t sure if that was true. Sitting here alone in the dark might be a better idea than going with them.

“Come on, Jess, it’ll be fun,” Danielle said. “I know tonight has kind of sucked, but the night is young, right? We can turn it around.”

Veronica was watching me with narrowed eyes, a smirk on her face. What did she think was so funny? She probably expected me to decline, I bet she would love that. It would be a victory for her if I was so uncomfortable that I stayed behind. I’d go to spite them all at this point.

“Sure, whatever,” I said. “Let’s go then.”

“See, Alex?” Danielle said. “I told you, Jess is always down for some fun.”

Trepidation prickled up my back, although I wasn’t entirely sure why. Everything felt wrong. But I’d be damned if I was going to let them intimidate me.

“All right.” Alex nodded. “Let’s go have some fun.”

The air was cold as it whipped through my hair and it wasn’t long until I was shivering. I didn’t know where we were going, but we were barreling down a dark road at midnight huddled in the bed of Nate’s lifted truck. Danielle and Alex were in the cab with Nate, while Veronica, Candace, and Matthew sat in the back with me. Nate was blasting the radio but otherwise we were silent, tension resting over us like a poisonous cloud.

As Nate took a few more turns, my nervousness rose. I recognized this dirt road, pot-holed and barely wide enough for his truck to pass. Low-hanging branches from massive black walnut trees whipped the truck’s cab as we slowed, the suspension creaking with every bump and dip.

I knew where we were going.

The Reed residence was set back from the road with a large dirt yard. The chain-link fence was old and bent in places, but a new gate guarded the driveway, secured with a chain and padlock. Large trees flanked the house, which was a monstrosity built of dark wood with a wraparound porch. It would have been a beautiful home if it had ever been cared for, but Manson’s parents had never been capable or willing to do so.