Prologue

PROLOGUE

GEMMA

M ariam grabbed the chipped and peeling door handle of the cabin, then immediately drew her hand back. Her nose scrunched up as she studied something greasy stuck to her palm. “You’re sure this is our cabin? We’re not about to walk in on some creepy old man who lives in the woods doing creepy old man things, are we?”

“I’m sure.” At least ninety percent. “ Stop stalling and go in. This is Bar Harbor, not the Blair Witch Project.”

She wiped her hand on her pants and pinched the handle between her thumb and forefinger, turning it and nudging the door open with her shoulder. It creaked and groaned in offended protest.

“Easy for you to say. You’re behind me.” Pausing in the doorway, she peeked inside. Then she visibly relaxed, her spine straightening and the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. “Hey, this is actually pretty nice. No creepy old man. No weird talismans on the walls that give off voodoo vibes. Nothing gruesome at all, actually.”

“What did I tell you?” I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head and dragged my suitcase behind me as I followed her in. “This weekend, it’s just us, books, card games, nature, and the list . No witchcraft or poltergeists. Normal stuff, I promise.”

“Normal people simply avoid renting a cabin in the woods for a girls’ trip because most of them want to stay alive.”

I laughed. “You said you wanted nature, so I gave you nature. What’s more natural than a weekend staying in a lakefront cabin in Maine?”

“There are so many things I could say to that, but I won’t. This place is awesome and Maine has been on my bucket list for ages, so all I’m going to say is thank you for picking this one. Some of the others looked nice too, but I’m glad this is the place we settled on.”

“You’re welcome.” I beamed at her, shutting the door behind myself and taking a look around our lodging for the weekend.

It was perfect for us, with a loft bedroom and an open-concept living space that had sweeping views of the lake. We had a cute little fireplace tucked into the corner and plenty of books and boardgames on a small bookshelf beside it. Outside, there was a gorgeous, shady porch and a deck that overlooked the water on one side and the woods on the other.

It was our annual girls’ getaway and we’d found this cabin for a steal online. A few miles outside of Bar Harbor, it was situated right on the lake in the state park. The towering trees surrounding the cabin hid it almost completely from sight from the road. It was September, so the tourist season was winding down, but out here, it didn’t matter that there were still some other people in town enjoying the last rays of sunshine before winter would be upon us.

Our cabin was our own little slice of paradise for the weekend, and it was close enough to town that if we were after crowds or people, we could always just pop over. I grinned as I strode over to the bank of windows overlooking the calm water outside, taking in the view of the lake and the natural beauty of the bank on the other side.

I inhaled deeply through my nostrils. “What time was Laurel getting in again?”

Mariam descended the stairs from the loft, pausing halfway down as she checked her watch. “She should be here soon. Do you want to come unpack before we get our relaxation on?”

My eyebrows shot up. “You’ve already unpacked?”

A frown marred her brow as she stared back at me like she didn’t understand the question. “Of course, I have. We’re only here for a few days. It’s not like I had a ton of stuff to get through.”

“You could’ve lived out of your suitcase.”

She scoffed, carefully gripping the railing as she continued her descent. When she reached the bottom of the little, ladder-style staircase, she chuckled. “Live out of a suitcase. You’re funny.”

Mariam, Laurel, and I had been best friends since elementary school. I knew better than to argue with her about this, even if I thought she could do with a little lightening up and letting go.

On the other hand, we were all slightly particular about things. All three of us were pretty set in our ways, which was precisely why I’d dug up the list we’d put together in the ninth grade.

Laurel had moved to Tennessee after college, so she was meeting us here, but Mariam and I had stayed local in Austin, Texas, our hometown. We’d flown out together, and while I was pretty sure she thought I was joking about the list, I absolutely wasn’t.

At the tender age of fourteen we’d dreamed up fantasies about what our adult lives might look like. From perky boobs to designer handbags on our shoulders while we went to brunch as trophy wives of hot rich men, we covered all the important things a fourteen-year-old girl might think she would need to live a happy, full, content life. But even back then we were cautious, so we’d written a just in case clause.

We’d already known that one day we might be in need of a little nudge in a different direction. The less goody-two-shoes direction. So the Naughty List had been born. The three of us had always been the good girls who did their homework, never broke dress code, and opted for sleepovers just the three of us rather than attending parties with raspberry-vodka-spiked orange juice.

We’d never really walked on the wild side.

This list would change that.

On it were twelve of the wildest, riskiest, most out-there things that we’d been able to conjure up at the time, and each of us would receive four of those items to complete.

Four challenges that would allow us to explore a potential other side of ourselves, pushing us to do things we’d never, ever have done otherwise.

Our reunion had been back in May, and upon arrival, all three of us were as single as we were as acne-prone teenagers—and our pact had kicked into operation.

The truth was that I’d been getting pretty sick of always doing everything I was expected to do, exactly when and how I was expected to do it. I’d even married who I had been expected to marry, and that had been a nuclear-level disaster.

Dave and I had gotten together young, and because we’d dated for a couple years, people kept asking us when we would be tying the knot. Ours had been a wonderful partnership and an incredible friendship, but passion had always been lacking in our relationship. We hadn’t truly been in love, but hey, we’d given the people what they wanted. That could be my personal slogan, to be honest.

On a beautiful fall afternoon, we’d said our I-do’s, and even though we’d both known it wasn’t the epic love we’d wanted in our lives, we’d been happy. It was easy. Until a couple years ago when he’d sat me down—coincidentally also on a beautiful fall afternoon—and told me that he couldn’t live a lie anymore.

The sound of a car engine from the road up on the hill drew me out of my thoughts. A grin spread on my face as I glanced at Mariam. “She’s here!”

The final leg of our tripod had arrived. Any moment now, Laurel would be walking through the creepy cabin door and our girls’ weekend could officially get started.

She called from outside. “Knock, knock! I’m here. Please tell me it’s you in there and not some famished cannibal wanting to make a stew out of me?”

So excited that I couldn’t help myself, I raced across the living area to the front door and opened it. “A cannibal? Jeez, woman. What on earth have you been writing? I didn’t know you were venturing into horror. No stews being made here, though. Don’t worry.”

She laughed. I walked out and wrapped my arms around her, and she hugged me back. “I wasn’t trying to venture into horror, but three girls out here all alone? You don’t need a very active imagination to start thinking about the potential plotlines that could come out of it.”

“Laurel!” Mariam called from the door. “Stop scaring her or you’re going to have to tuck her in tonight. Nothing is going to happen to us here. Obviously, I did my research before I made the booking. There have been no mysterious or suspicious incidents around here in decades and the host said there is a panic button in case of fire, flood, or some other kind of emergency.”

Laurel released me and grinned at Mariam over my shoulder. “I love that you always do such relevant research when you’re planning our trips.”

“She might’ve done the research, but she was pretty freaked out herself when we arrived,” I said as I led Laurel inside. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s the one who’s going to need tucking in. Not me.”

When she didn’t respond with a witty comeback, I turned to glance at her, realizing that I’d lost my friend to her own head. I smiled as I watched her take a look around, wishing as always that I could see the inside of Laurel’s mind.

A writer and bookshop owner, she had a vibrant imagination and a way of looking at the world from the perspective of the stories it had to tell. I’d so often wished that I could live in her brain, seeing the potential for a love story in absolutely everything.

I let out a dreamy sigh, but then I shook my head. Romance wasn’t in the cards for me. My last love story hadn’t ended so well. While I would have killed to have an epic romance of my own, I just didn’t think it was ever going to happen. My love story might only be the one I shared with my besties. Looking at both of them and feeling my heart tingle with gratitude, I told myself that was enough.

After helping my friend get settled, I enjoyed a lazy afternoon catching up with my besties, sipping on the margaritas Mariam had made while Laurel told us all about how she’d hooked up with her high-school sweetheart at the reunion.

Eventually, when we’d heard all about her private reunion with Leif, Mariam finally blurted out, “Is his penis as big as we thought it would be?”

My nose wrinkled as I laughed. “I don’t think anybody calls it a penis in this context. Have you not read any of those books I’ve given you?”

“You mean the trashy ones?” Mariam blushed and averted her gaze. “I started one, but I, uh, might’ve been a bit too embarrassed to keep reading. Do you even know how many different terms there are for penis?”

I rolled my eyes but then gave her a pointed look. “If you’re going to get through your portion of the list, you’re going to have to be able to read a couple of books at least. You’ll never complete your items if reading scares you.”

“The list is something we made up in the ninth grade,” Mariam argued. “How trashy can it really be?”

Laurel arched an eyebrow at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but we made the list because if we weren’t married with kids by our reunion, then being goodie-goodies hadn’t worked out so well for us and we wanted to challenge ourselves to mix things up.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I don’t remember everything we put on it, but I do remember a lot of giggling while we were tossing out ideas and writing down the most outlandish things we could come up with at the time.”

“Didn’t we even call it the naughty list?” Laurel asked. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be trashy.”

“But,” I said loudly. “The whole point of it was to push us out of our comfort zones so we would be forced to do things we wouldn’t normally do.” I turned to Mariam. “Say cock.”

Mariam sat up straighter and blinked at me, her margarita perched on her knee in one hand. “I don’t see why I have to.”

“Break the mold,” Laurel taunted. “No more prim and proper Mariam. Say it. Say it. Say it!”

Laurel and I pounded our feet on the cabin floor and chanted.

“This is stupid,” Mariam said.

“Being a grown woman who can’t say ‘cock’ is also stupid,” Laurel said.

“Fine!” Mariam threw the last few mouthfuls of her margarita back. Her cheeks turned rosy. “Cock, cock, cock. Are you both happy now?”

Her face was as red as Santa’s jiggly cheeks but she had gotten the word out.

Grinning, I held up my own margarita. “Cheers to breaking the mold.”

“To exploring the other side of life,” Laurel added. “So that we’ll be able to decide who we want to be going forward. The good girl, the bad girl, or something in between.”

“This is ridiculous,” Mariam muttered, shaking her head. “Do we even still have the list? I know we talked about it at the reunion, but that doesn’t mean the thing still exists.”

“Of course, it still exists,” I said. “I swung by my parents’ place before our flight. It was still safely tucked into my old desk drawer. I have it right here.”

I grabbed my purse and rummaged around until my fingers brushed against plastic. I pulled it out with a flourish like a stage magician, showing them the folded sheet of paper inside the Ziploc baggie.

Laurel laughed. “I can’t believe we thought pink, glittery ink would warn people against reading it.”

I winked. “It worked, didn’t it? It’s still in pristine condition. No one has touched it since we put it in here for safekeeping.”

Mariam sighed. “If we’re really going to do this, I need to eat. Should we go into town and get some lobster?”

“Let’s divvy it up first.” I took another big sip of my drink. “That is what we said we would do, right? We came up with twelve items and each of us would take four?”

“Right.” Laurel nodded. “Four dares to our future selves that would help us to be someone else for a season. Once it was done, we’d reconvene, talk about our experiences, and decide who we wanted to be. Those were the rules as I remember them.”

“I’m already selling my half of our company to Gemma,” Mariam protested. “Doesn’t that count as one of my items? I’m leaving my normal life to travel and chase adventure while living as a nomad and doing seasonal work. I think that’s about as far out of my comfort zone as I can get.”

“Nah,” I said immediately. “I’m really proud of you for doing all that, but moving to Sun Valley, Idaho for the ski season hardly makes you naughty. Nice try, though.”

Laurel blinked hard, her eyes widening. “You’re what? How did I miss this?”

I tossed an arm around Mariam’s shoulders and pulled her in for a sideways hug. “We only did the deal recently, but yep. The Events Co is all mine now.”

She gaped. “Wow. That’s crazy, but awesome. I’m so proud of both of you. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Mariam muttered, turning bright red as she inhaled deeply and held out her hand. “Okay. Just hit me with it. Give me my part of the list. Then we can buy some boxes to keep them in when we go into town. Let’s just get it over with, then we’ll catch Laurel up on everything else.”

I shot them a nervous, excited smile and opened the plastic baggie. “I’m going to tear it into three pieces, each of us will take one, and then when we get back home, we’ll do a video call and we’ll all draw our first dare?”

“Agreed,” Laurel said. Holding out her hand, she closed her fingers around the small piece of paper I pressed into her palm. “When are we going to read these?”

“How about Halloween?” I suggested. “We’ll do a Zoom call and read our first items all together?”

My friends exchanged a smile before nodding their agreement, and a thrill shot down my spine. In just a month from now, it was game on.

After a lifetime of being the good girl, I was ready to leave the old me behind. This list gave me the opportunity to reinvent myself. To be a new me.

And hopefully my besties drew the worst dares.