Gin stole a glance at her wristwatch again, the little diamonds flashing against her caramel skin in the firelight. Almost eleven. She would need to leave soon to make it to the Orphanage in time to set up. The smell of smoke clung to her skin, she caught a whiff as she turned to take in the others. Someone had started a bonfire, the wood crackling against the roar of ocean waves. It wouldn't be long until the rain started again and smothered out the tall flames, but they crowded around while it lasted. Gin had gotten the same text as the rest, fire at the sticks, and when she had got here with Liz there was already a crowd spread out on the sand, a myriad of colored blankets spread out beneath them like a flag of rebellion.
The sticks referred to the old shack set back from the beach. No one had lived there for as long as any of them could remember, but it was like the old structure had been forgotten. No one ever tore it down or built it back up, even as the boards fell away. Which made it the perfect place for a group teenagers with flasks full of stolen liquor and couples that wanted a moment of privacy from the watchful eyes of their guardians.
"Gin, are you thinking about taking someone in the sticks?" Liz had caught her staring in the direction of the shack, misreading her intentions, "I think you're the only one of our entire grade that hasn't been in yet."
"Only because I think there are better places to get acquainted with someone." Gin's smile was brittle, as if it would break on her face, but she wanted so bad to pretend this was just a normal night.
Liz moved from Mick's side to sit next to Gin on the blanket, and Gin felt a small tendril of cold uncoil in her chest. She was going to ask. Gin sucked in a breath, the air thick and soupy from humidity.
"Gin, what happened earlier?" Liz had never been able to properly whisper, but Gin could tell she was trying to be discreet, "At the Noir? You were-"
"Nothing." Gin hissed, harsher than she meant. She could feel Henry and Mick's eyes turning their way, like tiny lasers burning into her skin. They can't know.
Liz's brows furrowed in confusion, "But you were crying and you said-"
"I've just been tired Lizzy. I haven't been sleeping too well since my parents have been out of town and I don't know, it just caught up with me." Gin avoided Liz's eyes and the hurt she could sense in the other girl's tone, choosing instead to straighten the skirt of the short red dress she had changed into. She smoothed her hands down the silky material, inwardly begging Liz to stop asking.
"But-"
"Give it a rest Liz." Mick's words were usually sharp enough to cut, but tonight the slight slur of his words took away any of the edge he may have had, "She just told you she was tired."
Liz sighed in response, placing her chin on her knees as she looked towards the water, "It just seemed like something else is all."
Gin tried to smile but was pretty sure it only served to bare her teeth. Liz needed to drop it, and Gin lowered her tone so that only Liz could hear the warning, "It's been too long of a day Liz.. Just drop it."
The other girl didn't answer, but Gin saw the way her fingers dug into her chin.
"Gin?"
Henry's tone was soft, the words almost swallowed whole by the sound of waves. Honestly, she would have forgotten he was there if she wasn't so accustomed to it being the four of them. He didnt look like her Henry though. Not the self-assured King of Wildwood. No, he was like a ghost sitting at the end of their small square of blanket. His sleeves were rolled up, feet buried in the sand in front of him. His pale skin had an ethereal look, accented by his light hair hanging in his face when it was usually combed so neatly back. When he turned to look at her the light from the flames danced across his face, caught in the golden tips of his hair as if he could hold the fire. He tipped the flask her way again, the liquid seemingly endless tonight. She doubted anyone's parents would be looking too closely at the liquor cabinets tomorrow morning. Who would dare to deny them their small relief from losing one of their peers? Although judging from Mick's scowl cutting lines in his face and Liz's deflated bubbliness, Gin would say it wasn't much of a relief at all.
"It may serve to take a bit of the edge off." He tried to smile as he said it, but something about the expression was broken, tilted too far on one side and not enough on the other. Gin couldn't help but think of all the broken things today.
Her hand was taking the flask before she could even come to a decision. He looked so sad that she didnt want to deny his offer to help. Maybe it would even help her later tonight. She threw back a swallow, wincing at the burn. It was warming it's way down her throat and she gave a sigh.
"What do you think happened?" Liz asked as she reached for the flask in Gin's hand, "To Hailey?"
Gin didn't think her question needed any clarification, what else would they be thinking of today, but she didn't mention it.
"Maybe she fell." Henry's tone was the sort of hopeful that knows its being ridiculous.
Mick snorted into his glass, "From what King? The sky? Because Black Rock is too far back from the beach for the tide to reach her."
"We all know how the tides work. She could have washed in from somewhere else." Henry pushed, "Maybe from up the shore."
"You're right King, we do know how the tides work." Mick slurred, "Not like that. She's been missing for days."
Henry waved a hand at him, "Things wash up all the time."
"She wasn't a thing." Mick growled, "Not like a beach bottle or -"
Gin cut in before they could dissolve into the sort of prideful argument only boys like brothers could get into, "I think he's right Henry. That wasn't a drowning." And Gin realized what had bothered her so much about the scene, "Hailey's body was broken, snapped. And there was blood. Why would there be blood if she had washed up there?"
"So, what? You're saying that someone, like...." Liz grimaced as her voice trailed away.
Gin's hand lifted to her mouth before she realized and lowered it again, folding them on the table in front of her. A long ago reaction to stress, the urge to chew her neatly manicured hands to the nubs they used to be, "Murdered. Someone could have hurt her. Either by accident or on purpose."
"Jesus, Gin. Just lay it out there, why dont you?" Mick glared at the fire. He had been pushing towards the idea but seemed unable to deal with it so baldly laid out.
Liz leaned forward, eyes wide, "Who would do that? I mean, who would even want to? Someone we know-"
"Liz, calm down." Gin did her best to soften her words, but her tone did not lend itself easily, or often, to kindness, "Let's wait and see what the official word is before we think too much on it."
"We barely knew her." Mick grumbled, running a hand through his dark hair, "We treated her like shit. We treat everyone like shit."
"Mick, behave." Liz wrapped one hand around his arm, using the other to remove the whiskey filled flask from his reach, "It's about time to leave anyway. We need to get you home."
Gin tensed in anticipation of another outburst, Mick was always volatile but today it was a different kind. He was the type of rich young male that had a small circle and it never occured to him to notice the people not in it, until days like today, when the outside world was thrust into his own. Hailey's body had stayed with all of them today, those broken limbs like a second image over the present. But something about it had struck Mick the hardest. Gin couldn't even guess the long term effects.
Liz stood, helping an unsteady Mick to his feet, who wavered a little but straightened himself out. She stopped to look at them, "Henry, Gin, do you want to ride with us?"
"I'll find a ride." Gin lied.
Henry shook his head, gesturing towards the other's crowding the beach, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight so I thought I might as well find some company."
Liz wrinkled her nose at the girls, "Oh, Henry. Call me if you change your mind." She started to turn away with Mick, calling back over her shoulder, "And no drinking and driving. Period."
"Wouldn't think of it." Henry called back before turning to Gin, "Have plans tonight, or were you going to just babysit me?"
His tone was light but his eyes held all the heat of the fire. Henry had two older brothers, ans although he played the lush he could handle his drink.
"Plans." Gin leaned into him, their arms touching, "I know you can handle yourself. I'm also quite sure I don't want to see who you choose to be your company for tonight."
"No one likes to be alone." He responded, handing her the flask again, "Not even you."
His comment stung a little, even though she knew he didn't mean anything by it. She took a deep swig and the liquid burned its way through her. Henry always saw a little more than anyone wanted him to, and with her past showing back up, the last thing she needed right now was for him to discover any of it.
"I've got to go. Places to be, right?" She stood, smoothing her dress again, limbs tingling from sitting so long, "Any ideas of who I should call in the morning when I need to find you?"
His serious expression cracked as he grinned, "Gin, you know I never kiss and tell. Or make plans. Or, for that matter, stay until the morning."
"RIght." She nodded, smiling as she leaned down to kiss his cheek and grab her bag, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Check in when you get home." He called after her, and she waved to show she had heard. Already girls were giggling at the sight of Henry Kingston alone by the water. If she had to she would bet that it would only be minutes until one of them was walking hand in hand with Henry to their car.
She had only walked a few yards when the drizzle of rain started, quickly picking up. She pulled her umbrella out of her bag, popping it open above her. Behind her, groans filled the air. The party would dissipate now, and she glanced back to see a few girls already standing by Henry, leaning in like flowers to the sun. He stared after her though, and she faltered at his expression, the narrowed eyes and open mouth. He looked like he wanted to question her, or warn her.
Gin turned away and kept walking. The sticks weren't far from Black Rock. A ten minute walk at most, if she stuck to the shoreline and didn't get distracted by the trees closer to the orphanage. She could see the beginning of the forest ahead, black silhouettes even darker than the sky above. She had always heard stories about the forest, tales meant to send a tingle up a child's spine, enough to keep them second guessing any bad deeds.
Nothing could make her go in that forest.
The rain started to fall harder and Gin hurried her steps. She was almost to the orphanage when something caught her eye. On the edge of the trees, moving to the water. Gin stopped in her tracks, pulling her umbrella close as she squinted against the dark. It looked like a light, small and gold. As she watched though, a girl came into view.
Delia.
Her dark skin was glowing, just like the ball of shining gold light she cradled in her hands. She must have just come from the bar because she wore a shimmery top that reflected the light, dark pants hugging her figure. It was so dark that Gin had no fear of being seen, and although something in her warned against it, she took a few steps closer. The rain didn't seem to touch the other girl at all. It simply parted, streaming on either side.
Delia was at the water now, the water reaching to wash over her feet. Gin was close enough to hear her whispering. Something in a language she couldn't understand. The ball of light floated a few inches above her head, illuminating her curls like a halo. Delia was bathed in golden light, and Gin's breath caught in her throat. She looked like some sort of angel, golden and light and otherworldly in the inky black.
Gin watched as Delia brought pulled the jewelry on her wrist, producing a string. Just like the light it shone, golden and shining. She twined it between her fingers, creating a symbol in the middle as she whispered. It looked like the game Alicea had played when they were smaller. Cat's Cradle.
Delia brought her hands up to her face, holding the string pattern between her fingers. She was looking through the middle. Gin was too far to the side to see what she saw, but curiosity pricked at her. She wanted to see what the other girl was looking at.
Gin crept back, away from the shore, moving close enough to the trees so that she could walk behind Delia. Her glow was beginning to dim, the gold shimmering instead of flaring brightly. Delia began to lower her hands just as Gin moved into place. She caught a glimpse of the middle of the string, though, enough that she recognized the face looking back at her.
Annie's eyes, but the hair was wrong. Blond where Annie's was red. It was Alicea. Delia was looking at Alicea.
Confusion swept through Gin but she didn't have time to consider what it could mean. Delia's light winked out, casting the night in darkness again, and Gin didn't have to think twice about running, the sound of her footsteps covered by the rain.