Six Moon Summer (14 page)

There weren’t many people at the service: Rylie and Jessica, Uncle Jack and his family, and a handful of employees. Rylie’s dad always had a big heart, but few friends.

She dropped a flower on his coffin as they lowered it into the ground. “Miss you,” she whispered. The wind rose a little higher and tore the scarf from her neck, sending it dancing through the air across the graveyard. Rylie didn’t bother chasing it.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” said his executive assistant, Tracy, at the church after the service.

“Thanks,” Rylie said.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” mumbled another employee as he passed.

She wanted to crawl under the carpet and disappear. How many people were sorry for her loss? And how many of them really cared?

Everyone left the church. Rylie and her mom sat in one of the back pews. She toyed with a cracker off one of the platters the church bought for the reception. Rylie snapped off a corner and let the crumbs hit the church’s floor.

“He left you everything,” Jessica murmured. She dabbed at her eyes with the same tissue she had used for the last half hour. “At the final divorce hearing, he told me that he revised his will. Everything’s yours. His house. His belongings. His investments. Even his business, if you want it. It’s all going to be held until you turn eighteen.”

Jessica’s fist tightened on the tissue. The fact that Rylie’s dad had won the family business in the divorce—and then gone on to will it to his daughter, rather than the ex-wife who used to run it—must have stung.

“Who’s going to manage it until then?” she asked.

“Richard. He was in charge while your father and I went through the divorce anyway. Tracy can help him with whatever he doesn’t know,” Jessica said.

“Great.”

Even though Rylie’s mother had all but told her she was now very rich, she didn’t feel excited. How could she, when the price was so high?

“You don’t have to return to camp. I know you never wanted to go. I’m sorry we made you... made you leave. It was wrong.” Jessica tried to sound upbeat. “You can stay with me in my condo. There’s a great high school in the neighborhood.”

“No.” Rylie gazed at the cross at the front of the church. “I want to go back as soon as possible. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Her mom left her in the church. There was nothing more to say. Rylie didn’t want to live in Jessica’s condo, and she didn’t want to meet any of her boyfriends.

She sat alone for a long time. Rylie hadn’t cried at the funeral, but her eyes began to sting. Two wet circles plopped on the Bible in front of her. Once she started to cry, it was hard to stop.

Sniffling and wiping her eyes on the back of her wrist, Rylie knelt at the prayer stool by the altar. She had brought her old rosary from communion, and wrapped it around her hands before clasping them together. She stared at the pulpit and gathered her thoughts.

Rylie wondered what she could say and what pleas she could make. If there was one question she needed to have answered, what would it be?

“Why me?” she finally whispered to the cross.

Nobody responded.

Jessica didn’t linger when she dropped off Rylie.

“I’ll see you in August,” she said without looking at her. It was the only time they spoke on the entire ride over. Rylie took her bag out of the back seat and gave a small wave before hiking back to Camp Silver Brook.

She felt strange walking the path between the highway and the camp. It seemed like a lifetime since she had taken the trail with her dad wheezing at her side. Rylie was embarrassed to think that she had found him so humiliating in front of the other campers. Why had she cared what they thought anyway? She should have hugged him before he left. She should have...

Taking several slow, deep breaths to clear her thoughts, Rylie kept hiking. The further she got into the forest, the more relaxed she felt, and the more distant the city and her father’s funeral became. Amber and her gang couldn’t see her crying. Even if she had scared them off, there was nothing like a good breakdown to make her a fresh target again.

She found Group B’s campsite empty. The schedule on the door of Louise’s cabin showed that they were at a first aid class for the morning, and having a picnic later. Perfect. She could unpack before having to deal with anyone.

Byron the Destructor took his usual place on her bedside table where he could watch her sleep. Her shorts and pants went in the bottom drawer of the tiny dresser, and her shirts and sweaters went in the top. The journal stayed safely in her back pocket.

Rylie sat on the edge of her cot, surveying the loft and the beds below. She still didn’t care for her roommates, but being back on the mountain where the air was fresh and the sun was bright was more calming than she expected. The city and felt messy and brain-shatteringly cacophonous. Here, everything was right.

Louise found Rylie writing in her journal on the cabin steps after the first aid class ended. She took a seat beside her.

“When did you get back?” Louise asked.

Rylie didn’t look up. “Not long ago.”

The counselor waited in silence while the nib of Rylie’s pen scratched against the page. Louise turned her whistle over and over in her hands as though trying to decide what to say.

“If you want to talk, Rylie, I’m here. You’re having a hell of a summer. I can’t do anything about it. I probably can’t even understand what you’re going through. But I can listen.”

“Thanks Louise,” she said, and for once, she meant it. Rylie couldn’t describe the werewolf problem without sounding crazy, but knowing she had someone on her side other than Seth, was who was elusive at best, comforted her.

She napped fitfully in her cabin that afternoon. Rylie dreamed of chasing a fawn in the forest, watching its spotted back bounce between the trees. It wasn’t fast enough to escape her. She sank her teeth into its throat, and by the time it hit the ground, the fawn had become her father. His empty eyes stared at the sky.

Rylie screamed and screamed, but nothing could bring him back—she had killed him, he was gone, and she could still taste his blood on her tongue.

Her pillow was damp with tears by the time she awoke. The other girls chatted below her, painting their toenails as they waited for dinner. She smothered the sounds of her sobs underneath a blanket and stuffed a fist in her mouth so they wouldn’t hear.

When they left, Rylie took a clean page out of her journal and prepared to write a note to Seth. Her fingers were shaking.
I’m back, Seth,
she began, but his name was barely legible. A tear rolled off her chin and blotted the ink.

Rylie flung her pen against the wall.

“Damn it!” she yelled, balling her fists in her hair.

Something moved in the trees beyond her window. She slid closer so she could see, scrubbing her cheeks dry with her hands.

Seth.

He lurked in the shadows, too distant to make out his expression. Rylie didn’t need to see it to know he was looking back at her.

She pulled her boots on and dropped out the window. He greeted her by walking into the trees, and she followed silently. They stopped once the cabins were out of sight, and Seth gave her his slanted smile. “Hey,” he said.

Rylie tried to smile back. It didn’t work. Her chin trembled, and she dropped her head so he couldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes.

His arms wrapped around her, and she rested her cheek against his chest. Seth’s smell was comforting. She had missed him back in the city. Any thoughts of demanding answers from him fled her mind as she leaned into his embrace, and his hand smoothed small circles over her spine.

“I was so embarrassed the last time I saw him,” Rylie whispered. She didn’t need to tell him she was talking about her dad. “I wanted him to go away. I was so angry. I didn’t... I should have... I mean, I thought I hated him.”

“He knew you loved him,” Seth murmured against the top of her head.

“But I should have told him. Why did he have to die?” She rasped the words so softly that she wasn’t sure Seth would be able to hear her.

“Rylie...” He let out a long sigh. “Dying is as natural as being born, and all of us have to face it someday. Some sooner than others. It’s difficult to understand the meaning of it all. The question isn’t, ‘Why do we die?’ The correct question is, ‘Why do we live?’” Seth’s hand stilled on her back. “My father died when I was very young.”

She looked up at him. His gaze was distant. “I’m sorry.”

“Why did he live?” Seth mused. Rylie knew he wasn’t asking her, so she didn’t respond. “My father was the best in his field. Very accomplished. But my mother told me once that my brother and I were his greatest pride, and that we gave his life meaning. He lived for us.” He finally looked down at her, and his brown eyes were warm. “I am sure your father felt the same about you.”

Seth’s face was so close to hers. At any other time, Rylie’s heart would have been racing, but the weight of sadness pulled her down.

“He was my best friend,” Rylie said. Her chest hitched. “I think he knew that.”

“I’m sure he did.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, Seth.” He held her for another minute. By the time he stepped back, her eyes had dried.

“The new moon is coming soon,” Seth said.

Rylie was grateful for the change in subject. It was easier to deal with the mind-bending horror of being a monster than her dad’s death. “I get it if you don’t want to help me again,” she began, but he interrupted her.

“We can do better this time. Last time almost worked, but I didn’t expect the distraction. We could try bear bells to keep your attention on me.”

“No,” she said. “It was crazy to make yourself a target for a half-changed werewolf. Crazy and stupid and dangerous. What if I’d mauled you instead of the fawn?”

“I’m not that easy to maul.”

“I won’t let you put yourself at risk.” Rylie worried her bottom lip between her teeth, choosing her next words carefully. “I thought about how we should do it this time, and I decided I want to be tied up.”

“It’s the new moon. You won’t be as aggressive as you were on the full moon,” Seth said. “I can control you. I’m sure of it.”

“You were sure last time, too. It’s not your fault I killed the deer, but I’m not willing to do it again. Okay? Just try to find somewhere safe. I don’t want to hurt anything.” Rylie silently plead with her eyes.

“It’s your choice.”

“Thank you.” Rylie frowned. “You would tell me if there’s a cure, right?”

His expression became blank. “What do you mean?”

“The Legends of Gray Mountain made it sound like there might be a way to avoid turning into a werewolf. Do you know anything about that?”

“You can’t be immunized against a curse,” Seth said.

“I know that.”

“I promise I will tell you if there’s a cure,” he said. “It’s time for me to go, but I’ll see you on the new moon.” The side of his mouth curled up in a smile. “Are you going to eat meat at dinner like I told you this time?”

Rylie winced. “I don’t know if I can do it. I threw up after the deer incident.”

“Better steak than a fawn, right?”

He had a point.

The night of the new moon, Rylie spent a good twenty minutes at the buffet line. They had all the ingredients for hamburgers: buns in one spot, cheese and lettuce and tomato in another, and hamburger patties in the middle. They were thick and juicy and nearly black from the grill.

They looked good.
Really
good.

The problem wasn’t that they made Rylie’s mouth water, even though Rylie wanted to stay a vegetarian. The problem was that she wished they were bloodier.

“Better a steak than a fawn,” she muttered to herself, taking three hamburger patties back to her table.