Well, I couldn’t let her think she’d gotten to me now.
“Shut up, Hailey,” I yelled, still facing the wall.
“Hailey’s not here,” someone said with a giggle. The light was still shining right on me. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. “She went to get water.”
“And missed the fun part,” someone else said. More giggles.
I had to get out of there.
I unzipped my sleeping bag the rest of the way, smearing toothpaste over every inch of it that wasn’t already covered. The others kept barking out laughter.
I reached for my flashlight, but it turned out someone really had taken my batteries. I pretended not to notice, left the flashlight where it was, and climbed down the ladder to the floor. My pajamas were so sticky I’d have to throw them out.
My hands shook as I pulled on my sneakers. I’d have to go to the sinks to clean up. Then maybe I could ask the new counselors to let me sleep in the lodge house for the rest of the night. Anything would be better than staying in here.
“Where’s she going?” someone whispered, still giggling. I ignored them and opened the door.
Outside, it was warm. The moon shone overhead. Crickets chirped all around me.
Nightmares, kid pranks, random lesbians—it was time I grew up and stopped letting every little thing freak me out. The girls in my cabin were losers. I didn’t care about any of them. Or what they thought of me.
Hailey, though. It was different with Hailey.
She wasn’t just a loser. I hated her. I hated everything about her.
We’d been having the perfect summer. And then she’d ruined everything.
I trudged up the hill. The sinks were partway up the path to the bathroom just past the trees where I’d seen Jenn’s and Vicky’s enormous shadows the other night. As I passed the lodge house the moon must’ve gone behind a cloud or something because it got dimmer all of a sudden, and the crickets started getting quieter, too.
I ignored it all and kept walking. I was through worrying about dumb stuff like moonlight and weird sounds in the darkness.
I was almost at the sinks when I heard the whisper.
Look down, Georgia.
Great. The girls from my cabin had followed me outside. I must’ve heard them during my dream, too. Telling me to look down at my stupid toothpaste-covered sleeping bag.
“Quit it, you guys!” I turned around to look for them.
I didn’t see any of the other girls, but I wasn’t about to wait for them to jump out from wherever they were hiding. I bypassed the sinks and started up the only path that led away from there—the path up to the bathrooms.
Look down, Georgia! The voice was louder now. Not really a whisper anymore. This time, you’re too late.
Too late? For what?
I whirled around. The girls had gotten so loud there was no way they could be hiding anymore.
But I didn’t see them. I didn’t see anyone.
The air around me was completely still. There wasn’t even a breeze.
There was no moonlight above, either. Just a few pinpricks of stars.
What had the voice been talking about? What was I too late for?
And what did it mean, “this time”?
I’d climbed that hill night after night. And I’d heard something, or seen something, every time.
But I hadn’t done anything. I’d only screamed and run, dragging Hailey with me.
Then the voice came back. Just like in my dream, it was coming from all around me, even though there was no one else on the hill.
Look down. Look down. Look down.
“For real!” I shouted. “Stop it! I’m not scared this time!”
Look down look down look down—
“Stop it!”
But I gave in. I looked down, into the ravine.
At first all I saw were tree trunks. And the big piles of fallen leaves that were always at the bottom.
Then I noticed something else. A strange shape in the leaves. It was a lighter color than the other piles.
I squinted in the faint starlight until I could tell the shape was pink.
The same shade of pink as Hailey’s pajamas.
I tried to step back but stumbled, my sneaker catching on a rock. I fell backward, catching myself with my hands before my head could hit the ground.
I didn’t want to look again. But the whispers were still coming.
You were too late this time, Georgia.
That first night. I’d pulled Hailey back from the edge of the ravine. She’d been sleepy, and not watching where she was going, and—
Georgia. Look down.
The voice wasn’t coming from all around me anymore. It was coming from the ravine. Maybe it always had been.
It was so dark I could barely see anything.
I had to go down there. I had to look.
I scrambled down the slope. I wasn’t being as careful as I should’ve, but my feet landed squarely on solid ground with every step.
It wasn’t my time yet. The Spirit hadn’t been coming for me after all.
It had been Hailey all along.
Look down, Georgia.
I reached the bottom of the hill and tore through the heaped piles of rotting leaves. Now that I was closer, there was no way to pretend it was only a trick of the light. There was definitely something on the ground.
Suddenly, it was right in front me. She was right in front of me.
It felt as if the earth was falling out from under my feet. As if I were sliding down the slope, too. As if I’d broken into a hundred pieces, and now I didn’t know where they were supposed to go.
It was Hailey. It was definitely Hailey. But it wasn’t the Hailey I knew.
This Hailey’s eyes were black and empty. Her neck was bent at an angle like something out of a scary movie. Her body was limp, frozen in the leaves. I didn’t have to check her pulse to know that the blood had stopped flowing through her veins.
She was dead. But I could’ve sworn her lips were moving.
She was whispering, still. Somehow. I could even hear the sound they formed.
Look down, Georgia. Look down. Look down. Look down.
“So you’re into girls, huh?” Jackie said.
“What?” Georgia’s eyes were just a little too wide, her movements a little too precise. “When did I say that?”
Jackie shrugged. “No judgment here. Just an observation.”
None of our bellies were full. We’d each gotten some fish, which hadn’t even tasted particularly good, but barely enough to take the edge off the hunger earned from a day spent hiking.
“Leave her alone,” Jenna said. She was staring into the fire she’d built, though she didn’t look proud of her creation the way any of the others might have.
“That was not a scary ghost story,” David said. He’d settled in against a log he and Tino had dragged by the fire, his legs sprawled out in front of him.
“It was plenty scary,” Jackie added, “but not because of the ghosts.”
“How do you figure?” Lucinda asked.
Cody scooted closer to Georgia, who hadn’t said anything since finishing her story. “Drop it, guys, all right?”