The Summer I Drowned

by Taylor Hale

  The reception room is brightly lit, with crystal chandeliers and ceiling-high windows. Across the room, my parents comfort sobbing relatives I didn’t even know Miles had. West and I stand next to a table of appetizers and desserts. Not knowing what to do with myself, I pass a display of pictures of Miles. His last high school photo, with a big, dimpled smile and curly hair. Pictures of him as a kid in school plays, dressed in costumes of Shakespearean characters. Miles as a toddler in a diaper, and another of him on the first day of kindergarten.

  “I remember that day,” I say.

  “Yeah, me too. Miles loved school. He loved the attention.”

  “Weston.”

  Brian. We turn around, and Brain’s blue eyes have a film of tears over them, even though his expression is tight.

  “Dad . . .”

  Brian holds his hands together, but they shake. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not great,” West says. He looks over his dad’s shoulder, where across the room, Beatrice watches us, then looks away coldly. As far as I know, she hasn’t said a word to West about Miles’s death. I won’t pretend to understand her, but I wish she would put her personal feelings aside and be there for him, even a little. They both lost someone.

  “Listen,” Brian says, “I . . . I want you to know that—what I’m trying to say is, I want to see more of Amelia. She’s my granddaughter. I want to be in her life, Weston.”

  “Okay.” West’s voice breaks. “I’m going to try to get her every weekend. Maybe see if Sophie will split custody with me.”

  “I would like that.” Looking away, Brian squeezes West’s shoulder. “You only ever have one family, son. It’s easy to forget how to be grateful.”

  He walks away, and more tears fall down West’s flushed cheeks. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

  My chest stings, but I follow West as he heads outside, into the warm day. Faye cries under the shade of a willow tree with Shawn and Keely comforting her. She and West haven’t talked yet, but neither of them looks away when their gazes lock. We join them under the tree.

  “Hey, guys,” Keely says.

  “Hi, Keel,” I mumble.

  West sniffles while Faye hugs herself and trembles.

  “I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Shawn says and adjusts his black tie. “Hendricks—I mean, Miles—was always around. I don’t even know how the drama club is going to survive without him next year.”

  “He had so many plans,” Faye says. “He had a whole stack of plays he wanted to put on next year.”

  “Well, maybe we can still do them?” Keely offers. “Like, to honor him.”

  Faye snorts out a laugh. “Except we all suck at acting.”

  We fall quiet. This is Miles’s day, but I can’t help but think about the huge gap between myself and everyone else. I won’t be here for senior year, just like I wasn’t here for the past five years. But this isn’t about me, and now’s probably a good time to tell them who I saw.

  “Dean was here,” I say, and everyone looks at me.

  “Where?” Faye’s nostrils flare.

  “In the parking lot, but I think he left.”

  “That guy has balls showing his face around here today,” West says through gritted teeth.

  “I told him not to come,” Shawn adds.

  “Whatever,” Faye says, voice shaky. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done. Today is for Miles, and I don’t want to think about the asshole who killed him.”

  A grim silence befalls us as a warm gust of wind blows plumes of dandelion fluff our way.

  “Listen,” Faye begins, “I wanted to have like, a memorial for him. Without parents. Without crying. Or, less crying.” She laughs bitterly. “Really, I just want somewhere to drink in his name, but you know what I mean. I’m thinking we should all go to the cabin.”

  Images of Miles chasing me and drowning me flicker in my mind, so I wrap my arms over my chest and take comfort in my own embrace.

  “I’m in,” Shawn says. “Miles loved that place. But hey, let’s just not invite Dean, that cool?”

  “No shit, Shawn,” Faye says. “What’s with you?”

  “I’m just like, as mad at him for crashing as you guys are, that’s all.”

  He’s acting suspiciously. Whatever Miles was going to say before the crash, Shawn didn’t want him to, because he’d told him to shut up. But Shawn scans the graveyard like a terrified animal. There’s no way he’d have the guts to be a killer, or even a stalker. He rolls up his sleeve just enough to show a faded “smiley” on his arm.

  “You want me there too?” West asks.

  “Yeah,” Faye says. “You’re a pretty good guard dog. Dean probably won’t try to crash the party if you’re there.”

  “All right. I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “You too, Liv,” Faye says, and my eyes snap to her. “Miles would want you to come. You should be there for him.”

  Pinpricks crawl up my arms. Miles wouldn’t want me there if he knew how I really felt about him, and even the thought of returning to that place ties a knot in my throat. But I will go, because honoring him is the least I can do.

  As sunset casts an orange glow over the sky, everyone talks about the good things they remember about Miles, but I find myself distant from it all. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I can feel Miles looking at me in my peripheral vision, watching my every move. When I turn to him, he mouths something at me. His words whisper in the wind.

  “I tried to warn you it was him.”

  “Who?” I say, but don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until everyone frowns at me. When I look back toward Miles, there are nothing but graves. I swallow hard. Maybe I have an idea of who, but I can’t make another baseless accusation against someone after what happened last time.

  26

  We don’t get to the cabin until after dark. West promised my parents he’d keep me safe, and they said it was okay if I stayed as long as I was with West the whole time, but they’re almost certainly just out of fight. Watching my childhood best friend be buried wasn’t easy on them either.

  Draped over the living room furniture, everyone drinks and continues the ever-growing conversation about Miles. Even West has a beer. Despite being on a lower dose, I still can’t drink while weaning off my meds. Besides, putting myself in any state of mind that might trigger me to see things is far from ideal. I’m already shaking on the couch and trying not to glance into the dark forest beyond the windows.

  The truth is, I’ll probably never have a “normal” life. But at least I still have a life.

  “Do you remember that weird thing he used to do when we drove?” West asks Faye as he peels at the label of his bottle. “Every time Dad would take us out of town, Miles would read off every goddamn sign we passed, even if it was just for the speed limit.”

  “Trust me, I remember,” Faye says. “It was annoying as fuck, which was one of the only things you and I ever agreed on. And we’d get pissed off when Dad would get us those big bags of hard candies, and Miles would leave all the gross banana ones.”

  West lets out a deep, throaty, genuine chuckle, but his smile fades moments later. “Yeah. What a kid.”

  Faye sits cross-legged on the couch and faces Keely on the other side. “Hey, can I ask you something? Why’d your dad interview Miles about the guy outside your house?”

  “No idea,” Keely says. “But I never thought it was Miles. No way.”

  “Yeah, he said he had no real alibi or whatever, like none of us actually saw him. But I know where he was that night. He had this place in the forest behind our house that he always went to think. Just some random spot of grass where he liked to watch the stars.”

  My heart falls. A spot in the middle of the woods—that could have been where he took me for the picnic. More guilt covers me. I sink into the tartan fabric of the couch
. The memories of that day are even more horrible now that Miles is gone. West glances at me but says nothing.

  “He liked to go there when he was upset, and I remember he was pretty torn up about—” Faye stops herself and glares at us. “You know what. Anyway, this has been the worst day of my life, second only to finding out Miles was dead in the first place. I think I’m going to pass out. Keely, share a bed with me?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  They stand, followed by Shawn.

  “Guys, wait, what about me?” Shawn says.

  “What about you?” Keely scowls.

  “I dunno . . .” Shivering, Shawn rubs his arms and glances out the windows. “It’s kind of freaky out here. I don’t want to sleep alone.”

  “Really?” Faye scoffs. “You big baby. Fine, you can sleep on the floor next to us.”

  “Yes, on the floor,” Keely says.

  “Deal.” Shawn chases after them to their room, leaving West and me alone on the couch.

  Despite being together all day, we haven’t spoken much. A tense awkwardness hangs between us—not only because we’re not touching, but because we now have to figure out our sleeping arrangements. Sleeping in West’s arms would be a dream come true, but I wish it was under different circumstances. I can tell by the expression on his face that he sees the way we both hurt Miles when he looks at me.

  He doesn’t speak, so I say, “If you want . . . maybe we can just sleep in separate rooms? Since Shawn is with Faye and Keely . . .”

  West’s pained eyes meet mine. He changed out of his funeral clothes into plaid pajama bottoms and a black shirt, while I’m in the volleyball sweats I packed. I never thought our first night together would be like this.

  “Do you want that?” he asks, his voice gruff. I shake my head, and he looks away. “Neither do I.”

  We fall quiet, but I can’t stop thinking about what Miles tried to tell me. Though I’m slowly putting the puzzle pieces together, I can’t trust my own mind—but I do trust West.

  “I need to tell you something,” I say quietly. West’s jaw tightens. “Miles was trying to tell me something the day of the barbeque, before you showed up, but I wouldn’t listen to him. Then, before the crash, I accused him of being the guy outside Keely’s window, and he tried to tell me something else.”

  “What was it?”

  “That’s the thing: I don’t know, but it was about the guy outside Keely’s house. I was so paranoid about him that I didn’t even try to listen. But Miles knew something, West. One of the last things I heard him say was ‘I know you guys lied.’ And I remember Dean was really pissed off.”

  “But the van crashed before Miles could finish,” West says, and I nod. “Dean could’ve crashed on purpose.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Jesus Christ . . . we need to tell the cops.”

  “The last time I accused someone of something, Miles—”

  “Don’t think about that. If it wasn’t my brother outside Keely’s house, it was someone else, which means people are still in danger. If Dean crashed on purpose just to shut Miles up, he must have something to hide.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Okay. There’s nothing we can do tonight.” West stands up. “So let’s just get some sleep.” He goes around to every window and door and double checks to make sure everything’s locked. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

  West turns off the lights. With bated breath, I follow him to the same room I slept in the last time I was here. West closes the door, and the darkness engulfs us. I’m thankful the blinds are pulled shut, because I don’t want to look into the forest and imagine myself running through those same trees.

  Once West is under the covers, I crawl in after him. As soon as the heat of the blanket covers me, he pulls me to him, wrapping me in the warmth of his body. West buries his face in my hair and breathes in deep.

  “Thank you for being with me today,” he says.

  “Of course . . . I love you, West.”

  “I love you too.”

  We’re quiet after that, and it isn’t long before West’s breathing becomes slow and shallow, and his grip on me relaxes.

  Once again, I can’t sleep. Images of Miles pleading with me to listen to him haunt my mind. With everything going on, I haven’t even used the bathroom in hours, so I slip out of bed.

  “Where you going?” West asks groggily.

  “Bathroom.” I kiss his cheek. “Be right back.”

  West grumbles and curls under the blankets, instantly asleep again. My heart inflates, but I head into the empty living room, trying not to look at Brian’s taxidermy. But as I’m making my way across the hardwood floor, something creaks behind me. I freeze.

  Not this again.

  Fear floods me, the crippling paranoia taking over, but I’m sick of being ruled by these emotions. West double checked that the doors and windows were locked—there’s no way anyone could get in here. I run to the bathroom, and once I’m done, I go back out and hurry toward our room.

  Something moves by Keely’s door.

  I stop in my tracks. The floorboard creaks again.

  “Keely?” I whisper. “Is that you?”

  Silence.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I snap the elastic band against my wrist.

  You’re dreaming again. Wake up.

  When I open my eyes, I find myself staring into the mirror above the fireplace. The cabin is inverted through it, and in the corner is a face.

  I try to scream, but a hand covers my mouth and nose until I can’t breathe. Kicking and flailing, I spot the man’s obscured reflection in the mirror before my body weakens and I can’t see anymore.

  My vision fades in and out. The roof of a car, the soft fabric of a seat beneath me. The calm grumble of a vehicle moving. Then I’m surrounded by trees, and the night sky seeps through the leaves above my head. Someone carries me, but I can’t see his face. I try to say stop, but the words don’t come out. Everything is heavy.

  He’s taking me somewhere, but I’m too weak to fight him. I squirm in his arms, and he drops me to the ground. I feel nothing but the weight of gravity and the damp dirt on my hands, but through my disorientation, a memory leaks through the cracks.

  That time Keely went missing in the forest, West caught her trail.

  With weighted limbs, I roll the elastic off my wrist and drop it in the dirt, just as the person scoops me into his arms again.

  I’m too powerless to do anything. I catch one last glimpse of the elastic, strewn among the leaves, before I slip into the black again.

  27

  I open my eyes to a sickly yellow light dangling above my head. A battery-powered lantern squeaks as it sways with the draft, and the smell of rotting wood permeates the air.

  My hands are bound.

  “Hey, you’re awake. I was starting to think I’d have to do this while you were knocked out.”

  My vision adjusts to a man with his back facing me. His white shirt has stains on it—they could be dirt, sweat, or blood. My recollection returns in glimpses, and then all at once until my pulse explodes. When he glances over his shoulder, fear chills me to the bone.

  “Dean,” I breathe out.

  “Hey,” is all he says.

  “What—what’s going on? What are you doing? Where are we?”

  “Take a look around.”

  Four walls made of logs encase us. It’s a cabin rotting at the joints, and the roof looks like it could collapse at any second. Dean stands at some sort of workbench, but dark red stains the decaying wood. As my consciousness returns in full force, panic crashes into me. Metal tools hang on the walls and line the workbench. No, they aren’t tools . . .

  Knives. Some serrated, others long and sharp. A machete, a saw, and a long pair of scissors.

  It’s him. It’s al
ways been him.

  “How?” I ask. “How did you get in the cabin?”

  “Easy. I knew you were all going there, so I broke in before you even arrived. I waited in the closet.”

  “You were there the whole time.”

  “That’s right. I heard everything.” He scrapes metal against metal. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t go there for you. I wanted Keely.” He faces me with the knife in his hand, and I squirm against the chair he’s strapped me to. There isn’t a flicker of emotion in Dean’s dull brown eyes—no anger, no hatred. Just nothingness. Blank, like he isn’t alive at all. “But you were onto me, so now you have to go too.”

  “I don’t understand,” I choke out. “You went for Keely? Why?”

  He takes a step closer to me, and I pinch my eyes shut. The floorboards creak beneath his boots. “Why do you think? She got way too involved with my cousin, and I really don’t like the way he’s changing because of her.”

  I think back to that time in Sea Breeze, when Keely told me that Shawn never dates.

  No, Dean never let him date.

  “Since I was dating Faye,” Dean says, “I thought it’d be good for Shawn to have a girl around, but then he started acting differently. I tried to get rid of her before, but he panicked and said he’d break up with her as long as I didn’t hurt her.”

  “You mean in the forest, when Keely went missing?”

  “Yeah. Since you’re going to die anyway, it doesn’t matter if you know.” He shrugs. “I’d planned on taking her here that night, but my cousin was so upset . . . I decided to stop for him.”

  He says it like it was a favor. I want to throw up, but I can barely even breathe.

  “After that, Shawn promised me and him would be back to the way we always were, but he just couldn’t stay away from Keely. So really, this is his fault.”

  “I don’t understand,” I whimper.

  “I think you do.”