Chapters (57)
“A couple of girls from the high school. They seemed young—maybe sophomores? You shoulda seen it. They were all crying, and they practically had the cops comforting them. A few other kids I didn’t know, probably from Jersey. They won’t know who we were. Look, the cops can think whatever they want, but they can’t really put us at that house. They missed it. The important thing, if anyone asks questions, is that everyone stays cool and plays dumb. We’ll just stick to the story. We were drinking in the woods, and that’s it. I’ll get Will to talk to the kids from school. If we stick together, they can’t prove anything.”
“Maybe,” Hunter said.
“Definitely,” Trip replied. “It could have been anyone. It could have been the guys working on the house! Besides, it’ll clean up okay.”
Hunter felt, at the edges of his memory, something lurking, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Hey,” Trip said, his tone suddenly more serious. “Did you hear anything about Maddie? I was wondering about her. After . . . you know. I heard some of her friends took her home.”
Hunter looked up sharply. “No,” he said. “I took June and Rosie home. What happened to Maddie?” Again, something tugged at his memory.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see the fight?” Trip said. “After Will . . .” He stopped abruptly.
“After Will what?” Hunter asked.
Trip stubbed out his cigarette. He seemed to be thinking it over. “I don’t know,” he said finally. For a moment, the normally so-cool-he-was-almost-catatonic Trip actually looked flustered. Then he grinned and shook his head. “Look, it was a crazy party. Who knows what all happened.” He paused. “But don’t, you know, mention to anyone that I was there,” Trip added. “Just keep quiet about it, and it will all blow over.”
Hunter watched as Trip hauled the crate back off the ground. He was showing the effects of last night, with bloodshot eyes and a clammy sheen of sweat on his brow. Hunter hoped that Trip was right, and that this would all just blow over, like the river sweeping away the beer cans after one of their usual parties in the woods. But Trip’s confidence did nothing to soothe Hunter’s anxiety. Trip may have gotten them into and out of plenty of sketchy situations over the last few years, but something about this one felt different. If only, Hunter thought, he could remember what it was that had left him with a sense of dread that only seemed to sharpen, even as his hangover began to lift.