Chapter 14

I wake up alone in the tent. Peeling back my sleeping bag, I yawn and feel around for my pack. Hushed voices float through the cold air. Soft morning light permeates the tent fabric, and I slide the zipper down a bit, letting more trickle in. I rummage through my backpack in search of my toothbrush to no avail. Within sixty seconds, the tent looks like a mini version of my bedroom, the contents of my backpack scattered over the rumpled sleeping bags and the nylon floor.

Finally, I locate the toothbrush and a little travel tube of mint toothpaste hidden within the folds of a shirt. I stuff everything else back into the pack, secure my hair into a ponytail, and check my face in a little hand mirror.

When I open the tent flap, everyone seems to be up, mixing more of those crummy meals around the fire. I duck out and around the back of the tent, trying to figure out how I'm going to deal with last night's graffiti.

But when I get there, my heart lurches. The message is gone, only a gauzy smear of white left in its place.

What looked like paint in the black of night must've actually been spray chalk or some other washable substance. I head into the woods to search the grass where I last spotted the can, but of course it's gone. I don't know whether to be relieved that Mr. Davis isn't going to ask about the message or irritated at how well Noah keeps covering his tracks. Kicking a pine cone, I head back to my tent to do a quick teeth-brushing.

When I reach Grant, he flashes me a smile and raises his brows in a question.

"I slept fine." The lie comes out hoarse. I clear my throat. "Barely even knew she was there."

The last thing I need is for Grant to learn my suspicions about Noah. Not while we're up here. I need a plan, some way to find out what Noah knows about the day Piper fell. There's definitely something he doesn't want Jacey or me to uncover.

"Good," Grant says in a sexy-gruff morning voice. I bury my cheek in his chest. His body feels warm in the frigid mountain air, and his usual spice-tinged deodorant scent mingles with the smoke and pine smells now embedded in his sweatshirt.

"Anything from your parents?" Grant asks.

"I told you," I mumble into his shoulder, "I don't have reception."

He doesn't answer. I feel the tension in his arms as he releases me, giving me a peck on the cheek before wandering off toward the cooking gear.

My eyes sting, and I fight off tears. Grant is judging me for not staying home with my family. What would he think if he knew the rest?

"Savannah."

I look up to see him shaking a packet of oatmeal in front of me. "I asked if you want me to mix you up some of this gourmet breakfast."

I'm not hungry, but I know I should eat my instant mush. "Yeah, thanks," I say, trying to smile.

I take a seat in the dirt and wait for Grant to return with my oatmeal. Across camp, Jacey shares a fallen log with Noah. Apparently, she's chosen to ignore my warning.

I'm not sure I blame her. The Noah I grew up with never would've threatened us. Never would've threatened Piper.

Still, I found him there in the woods. Can I really believe his story about stumbling across the paint can while chasing someone else?

I scan the other side of camp, where Alexandra is chatting with Sam and Abby as they wait for their Jetboil to heat up. Tyler catches my gaze and motions me over to the fire. "I'm good," I mouth.

"You look like you could use some warming up," he calls out, patting the spot next to him.

"Funny." Like I'm going to buddy up with Tyler in front of Grant, especially after yesterday's turf war. I turn my head away, but a moment later, feet shuffle beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch of glint of metal.

I groan. "Don't you have small animals to torture?"

"That wouldn't be nearly as fulfilling as torturing you." He plops down in the dirt beside me.

"Seriously, though. What's with the chains?" He shrugs, which makes me more curious. "Are they weapons? Ooh, is that the reason you're really here? Being in this club is punishment for some sort of crime, right?"

Tyler's eyes narrow, and the irony of my accusation hits me like a kick to the shin.

Grant starts making his way toward us with my breakfast, and Tyler takes it as his cue to leave. He stands, dusts off his pants, and slinks away to join the others.

"What was that about?" Grant asks, handing me a bowl.

"Nothing. No coffee?" I ask, just to change the subject.

"Sorry, the mountaintop Starbucks is fresh out."

"What's the plan for today?"

Grant looks at me delicately, like I might detonate. "We're kind of waiting on you, babe. Mr. Davis said we'll move out as soon as you get something to eat. Up to the falls."

"Fun." I blow on my oatmeal and take the slowest bite ever.

He kisses me on the head. "I'll tell him you'll be ready in five."

***

The sun is out as we hike up to the falls, following Sam, our honorary guide. Grant and I remove our sweatshirts and stuff them into our packs. A light breeze kicks up the pine needles and cools the sweat beading up on the back of my neck. A couple of hours in, the sound of rushing water covers our footsteps. I push through the final line of trees, and the waterfall bursts into view.

A rock wall encrusted with neon moss towers over the forest on one side of the clearing. White water froths and gushes down the rocks, its beginnings hidden up in the treetops. On either side of the falls, twisted vines cascade and shrubs spring from the cracks in the granite. Where the water crashes down in a churn of foam, a brilliant pool collects within the rocks. The sunlight streams through the fanning trees to bounce off the surface of the swimming hole, making it a mirror of everything around us.

The edge of the pool is shallow enough to stand in, but my gaze travels to the dark area near the cliff. The part that's deep and uncertain.

Some members of the group stop to take photos, while others begin to descend the slope leading to the cool waters below. Mr. Davis sits on a fallen log, unwrapping a granola bar. A few yards away, Noah makes vain attempts to get my attention.

Grant and I find a shady spot to remove our packs. I take a few sips from my water bottle and turn to him. "What are we supposed to be doing, exactly?" My voice is half drowned by the crash and gurgle of the falls.

"Whatever we want." He points down the gorge to where Sam is already seated on a rock, fiddling with a stick and some ropelike material. "We could see what he's making."

"Lumberjack? Who cares what he's making?" But Grant's already headed down, serenaded by Abby, whose singing echoes through the gorge. "This club is so weird," I grumble, carefully finding my footing on the steep hillside where the rocks begin. Grant continues to lead the way, skirting slippery boulders until he reaches the bank.

"Fishing?" He nods at Sam's pocketknife with admiration. Apparently, when Grant is in this club, he transforms into an overgrown Boy Scout.

Sam doesn't look up, only wipes the blade on his tan pants, leaving a trail of green. "This cordage isn't the best. You got anything better?"

Grant grins. "In my pack."

He races back up the ravine, leaving me alone with Lumberjack, who calls out, "And try to scrounge up some bait."

Sam still hasn't acknowledged me, so I tiptoe backward, trying not to fall.

"Gonna try your hand at fishing?" comes a low voice behind me.

My pulse accelerates. "I told you to stay away from me," I answer without looking.

Sam glances up at us for a beat, then returns to twisting and tying.

I spin around, trying to push past Noah, but he sidesteps in front of me. "Come on, Savannah. You don't really think I did that to your tent. It wasn't even funny. In all the years we've known each other, have I ever performed a prank that bad?"

"Get out of my way, Noah."

"Is everything all right?" Sam is on his feet now, eyes narrowed.

"No, everything is not all right," I say. "Can I borrow your knife, please?"

"Uh." Sam glances from me to Noah, brows furrowed.

"Just talk to me," Noah pleads. "Preferably somewhere he's not standing beside us with a knife. Also," he says to Sam, "I thought Mr. Davis told you last time not to bring that."

Sam only glares, so Noah turns back to me. "Savannah. We need to talk. There are…things you need to know. About Piper."

My heart whirs in my chest. Here it comes, and part of me suddenly isn't ready to hear it.

"Please?"

I inhale slowly, and then turn on my heel. "Fine." I trudge back up the slope to where the rocks collide with the undergrowth of the forest, and the leaves rustle as Noah follows. I press on, ducking under a branch and pushing into the trees. When we're completely out of hearing range of everyone down at the river, I stop at a black, fuzzy log.

Noah is quiet as he lowers himself onto it, but I remain standing, arms crossed. The air is brittle and tense until Noah's voice shatters it. "Savannah, I did not write that message on your tent last night."

"I thought you were here to tell me something new, not to repeat your denials."

A lock of dust-brown hair falls over his glasses, and he lets it hang there. "I am."

"I want to know," I say, even though I don't. Not if Noah had something to do with what happened to my sister.

"I hurt Piper."

My breath catches. Everything starts to spin.

"It was at homecoming," he says, staring down at the ground. "When Piper was dancing with you and your friends, I sort of went into the photo booth with Jacey, and…" His face crumples. "We…"

I get a flash: Jacey and Noah off in the woods. I already said I'm sorry.

Anger writhes in my throat, leaving me speechless. Jacey did this. Jacey, who's been pretending she wants to figure out what happened to Piper.

"I'm going to kill her."

"What? No, Savannah. I'm not done talking." Beneath his glasses, his eyes are pained. A tear brims on his lashes. "Jacey and I kissed. But it wasn't her fault. Not only her fault. I wanted it too."

My vision goes spotty, black flecks marring the greenery. "Piper was so happy that night. She loves you. How could you do this to her?"

But even as the words hang in the air, I picture Grant and me, bodies tangled up on the hot dance floor. They're no worse than me. "Did she find out?"

He doesn't answer at first, just nudges a yellow-flowered weed with his boot. Finally, he nods. "When we came out of the booth, she was holding the photos."

A tide of nausea rises in me. How did I not know about this? Piper would've been destroyed.

But I wasn't there. I went to the after-party, too caught up in being homecoming queen—too caught up in Grant—to notice. I ended up crashing at Jessica's, only making it home late Sunday night.

"And you two broke up?"

He pales, running a hand through his hair. "That would've required us to be together in the first place."

My legs go numb, and I turn to collapse onto a rotten patch of log beside him. "What are you talking about? You and Piper were together."

He winces. "I know Piper thought we were."

I feel so sick. I lean over, head between my useless legs.

"I know how it sounds." His voice is strained, its richness and depth gone, leaving only hollow sounds that make up hollow words. "But I felt bad for her. She's my best friend, and I couldn't tell her I didn't feel the same way she did. Things were easier when it was the three of us. Then she and Jacey went through that rough patch last year, and Piper and I ended up spending a lot of time together, just the two of us. She seemed to think we were a couple just because we were together all the time."

"And you never wanted to be with her that way."

His lips purse. "At first, I thought I might. I tried to make it work. But after a while, I realized I was only fooling us both. Especially after the dance."

"So, she was heartbroken, then." And I never knew. After all the time I'd spent convincing her homecoming was going to be amazing—that she was going with a boy who loved her—I never cared enough to ask about it.

He doesn't move an inch when he whispers, "She did it because of me."

Under the weight of his words, my body buckles. I pull in a breath, trying to keep my hands from pushing straight through the rotting corpse of a log. I want to hold Noah, to console him. Because if this is his fault, it's also my fault. Piper was already dealing with so much, and then I went and committed the ultimate act of betrayal.

"I was horrible to her," he says. "I wanted to do the right thing, to finally be straight with her. I asked to speak to her about"—he looks down—"what happened that night. At the dance."

I lick my lips, but they still feel dry. Like they might crack open and bleed all over my chin.

"I tried to talk to her on the way to sixth period the day she fell—to apologize—but she kept asking if I was in love with Jacey, and I didn't know how to answer. Then Piper's name came over the loudspeaker, telling her to go to Mr. Davis's office." His hands fidget in his lap. "She ran off crying."

Noah bites his lip. "I was a coward. I couldn't admit the truth, and she ran away." His gaze veers toward the trees as if he's watching Piper flee all over again. "And I let her , Savannah. I didn't call her back. Didn't check on her after school. Nothing. I just sat at home like a coward." His feet fidget as he mindlessly unravels the hem of his shirt. "And then…"

"Noah," I interrupt. "Stop." I want to tell him the truth, but I don't even know the truth anymore, only the mammoth part I played in Piper's distress. "I know you think you're responsible, but there was something else too."

He looks up, pale eyes glistening. "What do you mean?"

I swallow. "The message on our tent—it had to do with Piper. I found a threat just like it inside her pack last week, telling her to ‘quit survival club or else.'"

"That's what you meant last night. When you said, ‘You did this to Piper too.'"

"Whoever wrote it took the pack before I could show the cops. And there's more. Some strange calls on her phone. And a note from the office, telling her to go to the Point for a Survival Club meeting that day." My right knee bounces. "I think she went to the fake meeting, and whoever wanted her out of the club hurt her."

Noah squints. "Who would want to hurt Piper?"

"That's the question. It's the reason I'm on this trip. I'm going to find out who wanted Piper out of this club and why."

Noah turns to stare at the pine cones on the ground. He removes his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. My heart thumps as I wait for another lecture about my active imagination. But when he replaces the glasses and turns to me, his jaw is set. "Tell me everything."