Chapter 5

Tuesday, May23

I didn’t stick around to hear what dare Rhett gave Ruthie and her coven. But that didn’t matter because it came through on the group message anyway.

They have to dye the cafeteria mac and cheese blue today.

I had to reread it five times because I couldn’t believe how dumb it was. Rhett had the audacity to tell me the balloon prank was childish. He thinks this is sophisticated? Double standards.

It’s the kind of prank that we should all be doing for the last three weeks.

For someone who isn’t his girlfriend, he sure has gone easy on her.

It doesn’t mean that’s the only thing she’ll have to do, and the dares get progressively worse for everyone as the weeks go on. My next one will probably be breaking into the sheriff’s house.

I get ready for school slowly, being as quiet as I can because my mom finished work at the hospital around three a.m. and will desperately need the sleep. Dad will be home a bit later; we just miss each other.

I fill my water bottle, grab my bag, and leave the house, closing the door as quietly as I can. My car is in the driveway, but I like to walk…and gas is expensive. The route between my house and school is pretty, and it’s not going to be too hot today.

The roads between my house and school are mostly deserted, since I live on the outskirts of town. I look up the mountain and smile, remembering camping trips with my parents up there. Since the bear sighting, we’ve gone to a nearby national park instead.

As I turn the corner, Arthur’s house comes into view. I feel a pang of guilt as I get closer.

Breaking in was such a crazy thing to do.

We’re lucky that Arthur didn’t catch us.

We’re lucky that he’s harmless. Though I can’t see him being too impressed if he’d found us in his house. The last time someone snuck into his house, he called their parents. Would we have gotten off that easy, or would he have called the police instead?

Though I can imagine I’d get in more trouble from my parents if they received a call at the hospital about me breaking and entering.

I walk past the entrance to Arthur’s driveway. It’s more like a dirt track, and every year Rhett’s dad tries to get him to repave it. Apparently, the dirt creates a lot of dust. Arthur’s car hasn’t left his carport for years, so I’m not sure who’s kicking up all this dust.

“Marley?”

I look up, startled, and see someone jogging toward me from Arthur’s house.

It takes me a second to recognize him. “Oh my god, George!”

Arthur’s grandson is now about a foot taller than he was the last time I saw him, over a year ago. His shoulders are wider, and all of him has filled out with muscle that he must put a lot of effort into. He’s only a year older than me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. How’s it going?” he asks, stopping in front of me. He has light skin and what looks like very soft shiny chestnut hair. He rolls his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms, and smiles, his stormy-gray eyes shining.

Damn. Talk about a glow up.

“Um. I’m good. What about you? When did you get here? You didn’t say you were visiting.”

He laughs. “Wanted to surprise you. I’ve just finished up my first year at college and thought I’d visit my grandad…and you. I don’t think Grandad sees anyone since my nan and mom died.”

“Your mom too? Oh my god, George, I’m so sorry,” I mutter, having had no idea that she’d passed. We don’t talk every day or anything, but we message enough to tell each other stuff like that.

“Thanks,” he replies, scratching the back of his neck.

I guess George only has Arthur now. From what I can remember my parents telling me, George’s dad, Arthur’s only son, died when George was little, and his mom had grown up in foster care. She raised George a couple of states over, so he never saw Arthur much. But other than that, George never spoke much about his family, so I never asked.

“Will you move here?” I ask, not really knowing what to say or how to help.

He shrugs, and I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes on his face and off those muscles. “I’m not sure about that. It’s quite…”

“Small, in the middle of nowhere, and full of busybodies?” I finish for him, listing all the things I’ll be happy to leave behind.

Laughing, he replies, “Yeah, something like that.”

“Do you think he’d sell and move away with you?”

George shrugs. “Grandad loves it here. Well, you know the family history.”

I nod. “Yeah, I understand that he doesn’t want to be pushed out of his home, but maybe it would be good to start over somewhere else.”

“I’ve told him he should move.” George sighs, and it sounds like it’s a battle he fought and lost. “I think he could pretty much name his price at this point.”

I laugh. “If it were me, I’d be such a sellout.”

“Me too,” he replies, laughing again.

“Well, maybe he’ll want to move where you are.”

“Who knows,” George says. “You still in school?”

“About to finish,” I tell him. “Last few weeks. I can’t wait to get out, you know?”

George has never lived here but he seems to get it. They could’ve lived here on that huge property, but his mom never liked it, hated the beef between the families. I actually heard George refer to the families as the Montagues and Capulets once.

It was the first time I met George, when I was about eight. We played at the creek together, Rhett too, and George’s mom rolled up, telling him to get in the car because they were out of there. I don’t know what’d gone down before that, but I remember his mom looked mad about something.

“Any plans for college? You always wanted to be in California, right?”

I nod. “Well remembered. I got into UCLA, and I can’t wait. Though another four years of studying and taking tests kind of sucks.”

“Congrats. You can handle college. I’m thinking of transferring, not loving the cold up north, but I’ve made some good friends. With Mom gone now, I don’t know if I want to start over yet again.”

“Makes sense. Hey, if you want sunny, come to Cali. You know me and kind of know Atlas,” I say, liking the idea of seeing George more often.

He chuckles. “Thanks. I’ll figure out where I’m going next while I’m here over the summer.”

Wait. Oh crap.

While he’s here over the summer.How long has he been back? He didn’t say, and if he didn’t arrive just this morning, he would’ve been in the house when we snuck in last night. Oh god, there was someone in the living room and upstairs!

My scalp prickles, though the danger has passed. We were so stupid. What would we have done if George had caught us?

“I should get going,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’m glad you’re back. Arthur must’ve missed you.”

“You okay? You’ve gone pale, even more than usual.”

“Yeah, just the heat,” I say, though it’s not even that hot yet.

“Get to school and hydrate,” he replies as he retreats, walking backward up the driveway to the old house.

It’d be weird if the Wilders did buy the land. I don’t know why they need it—it’s not like they don’t have enough. They probably want it as a graduation present for one of their sons.

Some people have all the luck.

I continue toward school, looking down at my phone as I type a message to my friends, my thumb trembling over the keys. They need to know that George is back.