6. The lake

SIX

THE LAKE

T he answer: not bad at all… so far.

I don't normally like being wrong. In this case? I'll make an exception since, hours after I stepped onto the island while battling feelings of dread and trepidation, I'm actually kind of enjoying myself.

Summer hasn't made another snide comment since the ferry ride. Like I thought, having Tyler on the island has done wonders to put her in a better mood, and with her husband to distract her, I haven't seen her sidle over to Tommy once. Even now, she's sitting on the log opposite mine and Tommy's, sprawled out on Tyler's lap, her hands buried in his dark blond hair as they catch up on their day apart. They look so cozy together, I almost wonder if I'd imagined all of the nasty looks she gave me earlier today.

It wouldn't be the first time I saw things that weren't there.

Without her best friend commanding her attention, Madison was left on her own. She won't usually start shit unless Summer tells her to. On her own, her default mode is one step past flirtatious. Simply put, Madison will want to find someone to fuck, and with both Tommy and Tyler taken, she's set her eyes on Chase.

Chase Whitmore is too handsome for his own. Clay will always be boyishly good-looking to me; immortalized at twenty-two when he disappeared, his All-American boy next door looks are how I remember him. Tommy is effortlessly attractive, with his five o'clock shadow, messy dark curls, and crooked smile. Chase's appearance screams moneyed lawyer. Everything, from the tailored shirt and khaki pants he has on—his idea of casual vacation wear—to his three-hundred dollar haircut is expensive, but beneath the veneer, he has model handsome features. Chiseled jaw, a slight divot in his chin, high cheekbones, and ‘fuck me' hazel eyes.

Pity that, when I look at him , all I see are the red-rimmed eyes of a drunken teenage boy who was stronger than I thought as he held my head down…

I have to say, I did expect him to sit with Vee instead of Madison. There's no denying that Vee's been spending more and more time with the lawyer lately, and while she claimed she needed his professional services, something seemed off about the untouchable businesswoman.

Violet Lee is just as gorgeous as Chase, only everything about her is natural. She wears his straight black hair short, hitting chin-length, showing off the striking cut of her jaw. Her eyes are dark, her skin flawlessly golden, and as a hobby marathon runner, her body is enviable.

She's currently stretched out on her own log, sipping the margarita she made in her solo cabin before joining us outside.

Tommy is sipping on his beer, the neck of the bottle nestled between two fingers on his left hand. His right arm is slung over my shoulder, tucking me against his side as the crackle of the bonfire flame's echo all around us.

The three guys set it up after we all unpacked and got settled in. I put all of our supplies in the provided fridge, grabbing a can of soda for myself. Everyone else is enjoying themselves with a drink, but while I'll have some wine every now and then, I feel like one of us needs to stay sober, especially with the large fire burning in the pit.

The sun's gone down. This far out from the mainland, stars sparkle above our heads in the night sky. The fire drowns out the soft murmurs of conversation, while most of us are just enjoying our peaceful first night on the island.

I'm content. The first hour on the island, I was on edge. Seeing our pristine cabin with its three rooms—front room/kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom—that was actually bigger than the apartment I rented when I first moved to Gullhaven made me feel a little better about being here. It has a front door and a back one, both that lock with the key Tommy has in his pocket.

For privacy, I guess, since one of the main selling points of booking a week on Halo Island is that we have the whole damn place to ourselves. We don't have to worry about other guests or locals sneaking into our cabins because there aren't any. But with Chase claiming the cabin nearest to the one Tommy picked for us, part of me is secretly grateful for the ability to lock up when we got to bed tonight.

That won't be for a while. Each of us grabbed food for dinner in our own cabins earlier, with Tommy carrying out the supplies he brought with him to make s'mores if we get hungry again. He forgot to bring something to skewer the marshmallows on, but Madison grabbed Chase by the hand, tugging him into the woods to find some sticks.

They came back ten minutes later, Madison wiping her smug lips, and Chase's shirt just a little more wrinkled than it was before. Both empty-handed, tey claimed they couldn't find any sticks in the fucking forest. Vee had rolled her eyes, walked off to her own cabin, and returned with two long fondue forks she found in her kitchen.

As she speared a marshmallow with more force than was necessary before jabbing it into the fire, I can't help but think that the sharp prongs would make an amazing weapon.

Once Vee licked the last of the white, stringy, melted goo from her lips, she relaxed back onto her log, sipping the last of her margarita.

Madison brushed something off of Chase's folded collar, giggling under her breath.

Tommy turns his head, kissing my cheek. I can smell the beer on him as he does, but he's nursing the first bottle, simply enjoying have me right next to him.

It's cozy. The fire is a blast of heat, knocking aside the chill from the ocean behind us. It's actually a little too warm, if I'm being honest, and I nestle the bottom of my ginger ale can in the sand so that I can push back the sleeves of the sweater I tugged on before I came out here.

The motion catches Vee's attention. Sitting up, she announces, "It's hot as fuck out here."

I gesture at the flames.

"Yeah, but you know what I was thinking? We should go for a swim. Cool off in the water."

Tommy chuckles. "Ocean's right behind you, Vee. Knock yourself out."

"Swim at high tide in the Pacific, Tommy? With sharks out there? You must be joking. No," Vee says, waving her hand toward the woods flippantly. "Let's go to the lake."

My stomach twists.

Tommy goes still.

Summer shifts on Tyler's lap, sitting on him with her back to her husband, facing the rest of us on the other side of the bonfire. "Did someone say we should go to Halo Lake?"

The lake.

It wasn't really the island itself that I didn't want to see again. I have wonderful memories of my time here… but Halo Lake?

It's what's called an incursive lake. A body of water that's nestled in the center of the island, its circular shape makes up part of the design that gave Halo Island its name. The lake is about twelve feet deep in its center, and unlike the shore, there are no tides. No waves. It's peaceful and serene and, tucked away in the middle of the island, it's incredibly private.

It's also where my mother died.

Ten years later, I can still see the scene vividly. It was mid-May. The weather had been gorgeous all afternoon. Our gym teacher brought a pair of volleyball nets and set them up on the sand. We held an impromptu volleyball tournament—Tommy and Clay's team winning, of course—and built a bonfire to roast hot dogs for dinner, marshmallows for dessert.

The temperature dipped as the sun set. Too chilly to take a swim even if the lake wasn't off-limits after curfew. Everyone knew that you were risking the chance to walk at graduation if you broke any of the three rules: no swimming after dark, no starting a fire without adult supervision, and no swapping bunks once yours was assigned. That last one was to keep guys and girls from intermingling, and considering that just meant a handful of students snuck out to fuck where they couldn't be caught, it didn't really work.

The lake was different. Us seniors knew better than to go into the ocean at night, and even if we tried, two of our teachers set up tents on the sand to keep an eye on the shore. Because the lake was a hike to get to, none of the chaperones set up near it. The threat of possible expulsion was supposed to be enough to keep us away.

I would've. I didn't have any intention of sneaking out and walking all the way over to the lake that fateful night. By mom…

When I saw her floating on the lake, I didn't want to believe it was her. I recognized the purple blouse she was wearing, clinging to her soaked skin. Her hair—a paler shade of blonde than mine, turned dark from the water—was loose, wafting like a cloud in front of her. The tendrils barely moved since the lake itself was so still.

She had her shoes on. I remember that detail so vividly. The expensive heels Rick gave her, that she told me she'd wear when they got married at the courthouse later that summer… she was still wearing them when the Coast Guard came and dragged her body out.

I was the one who found her. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, and for longer than I want to admit, I stared in horror as she bobbed on the surface of the lake, just out of my reach. It was only when Clayton Rivers—Tommy's best friend… he was just Tommy's best friend then—stepped out of the woods, saw my mom drowned and me in shock, that I knew it was real.

It happened.

My mom died .

Later, Clay would admit he was sitting on the back porch of the cabin he shared with Tommy and a couple of the other guys on the football team when he saw me sneaking away from mine. I'd been worried that my mom hadn't come back at curfew so I went searching for her. Clay didn't stop to grab Tommy. He simply followed to make sure I was okay.

And I wasn't. It took a long, long time until I was again, and Clay had a lot to do with that. He was the one who held me that night as the shock wore off, denial settling in just as quickly. He was the one who walked back to get help when I couldn't leave her, even though we both knew my mom was too far gone to be saved, and who retrieved Tommy for me after news broke and everyone came rushing toward the lake to see what happened.

Then, when I needed a place to stay, I moved in with Clay. And whether it was trauma-bonding or what, I started to see him as more than just Tommy's best friend.

He became mine .

Now he's gone, too, and just the thought of going anywhere near the lake where my mom died, without the man who saved me back then…

I should've known better than to agree to this. Of course someone would suggest we visit the lake some time during our stay. I'd have put money down on that person being Summer, not Vee, but Madison and Chase have already nodded their agreement, while Tommy rubs my upper arm.

I look at him.

His eyes are bright. Not from the alcohol, either, but the excitement of continuing the night near Halo Lake. "What do you think, love?" he asks me. "How about a swim?"

Fuck. Tommy wants to go.

If I refuse, he won't argue. He'll simply knock back the rest of his beer, tell everyone good night, and come with me to our cabin. They'll all know I'm the reason he cut the night short, and whether I have valid reasons or not, they won't care.

So I go with a flimsier one.

"I don't know. I didn't bring a bathing suit."

"So what?" asks Vee.

"None of us look like we did when we were seventeen, Cyn. It's fine. Don't be a prude. Let's skinnydip." Summer's gaze finds Tommy. The bonfire's flames flicker in the dark depths of her irises as she smirks at him. "Unless Tommy's afraid you might trade him in again." Her smirk turns cruel as she looks at me again. "Got a taste for a lawyer?"

Madison narrows her gaze at me, scooting closer to Chase while he just chuckles and shakes his head.

I imagine grabbing Summer by her long hair and shoving her face into the fire the same way Chase yanked me against his erection that night.

"Funny, Summer," I say, my tone making it clear that it isn't funny at all. "But I've never been interested in Chase. Sorry." I lean against Tommy's side, stroking his chest possessively. "It's this guy for me."

"Yeah, but that's only because?—"

I can only imagine what kind of bitchy response Summer had in mind for me that's only cut off when Vee claps her hands, rising up from her log.

"I want to swim. Come on. Last one to the lake has to cover the bill for that deadbeat ex of mine."