The wool blanket is sky blue and looks like it would be itchy, except Brandon isn’t going to mind very much. Chelsea gently lays the blanket over his lower body, pausing as if not sure if she should put it over his head or not. Finally, she covers his face too, turning her boyfriend into nothing more than a darkening lump on the front porch.

She presses her fingertips to her lips, then holds them out to him. “I love you, baby.”

Did she though? Did she really? Only yesterday we were talking on the phone and she said, I hate that cheating asshole.

She looks back at the rest of us as if expecting us to chime in. I hardly knew Brandon, and what I knew of him, I didn’t much like. But I don’t want to leave Chelsea hanging, so I murmur, “We’ll miss you, Brandon.”

“Miss you,” Tim chimes in after a beat, even though he disliked Brandon as much as I did.

Chelsea looks at Shane, whose eyes have gone glassy. “We’re going to find who did this to you, man,” Shane says. “And we’re going to make him pay.”

_____

Now that we’ve said our goodbyes to Brandon, Chelsea consents to going back into the house to figure out our options for our next move. Unfortunately, those options are limited. The phone lines are dead, either from the storm or something more ominous. The tires are slashed on both of our two vehicles. And the storm outside is still raging as bad as it ever was.

“Kayla didn’t have much luck walking back to the main road.” Chelsea stands in the middle of the living room, wringing water out of her long hair. “But I bet one of you guys could make it. It’s not that far, is it? Like, a mile?”

“A mile and a half.” Shane makes a face. “And you saw how slippery the road is, so it’s a difficult hike. But what worries me more is that with the amount of wind, there could be some power lines that came down. One wrong step and you could get electrocuted.”

Great. So our choices are to stay here with a murderer lurking around or risk getting drowned or electrocuted.

“I think we should stay put until the storm dies down,” Shane says. “At the very least, we might get our phone service back. And the roads will dry out.”

I look at Tim with my eyebrows raised. He lets out a long sigh. “I agree. It’s not safe out there right now.”

Both of the boys seem firmly in favor of staying put. I look over at Chelsea, who is completely waterlogged. Her mascara has dissolved into streaks running down her cheeks, even though she always gets waterproof. I guess waterproof mascara isn’t a match for the storm.

“Brooke,” she says, “can I talk to you?” She eyes the boys. “Alone.”