I shook my head, deciding that my urge to see Gabe was overriding all of my fears. “We’re just having some fun, and I’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, Mara’s a real pro,” Hutch said, making me sound like a prostitute. “She does this kinda thing all the time.”
“Thanks, Hutch,” I said dryly.
Roxie yawned. “Anyway, it’s getting late. I probably should head back to my trailer. Seth and Carrie have to be done by now.”
“Are you crashing here tonight?” Luka asked me.
“If you guys don’t mind.” I stood up so Roxie could slide out behind me. “My mom’s kinda in a funk.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem. If Seth doesn’t come back, you can sleep in his bunk in back,” Luka offered, motioning to the back of the trailer.
I noticed a disappointed look on Tim’s face and shook my head. “No, that’s fine. I can sleep out here.” I patted the bench cushions that were about a hundred times softer and fluffier than my own bed. “Me and Hutch can have pillow talk.”
“Good. You can tell him what it’s like to kiss with tongue,” Roxie teased as she opened the door. “He’s been dying to find out.”
“I’ve kissed girls before!” Hutch called after her.
She waved as she stepped outside, letting the warm night air waft into the trailer. “Night, guys.”
Once she was gone, we cleared off the table. The dining table and couch folded down into a nice-size bed, and Tim started getting it ready for me while I threw away the empty beer bottles. Hutch hopped up onto his bed above the driver’s seat and Luka came back with blankets and a pillow from Seth’s bed.
“Need anything else?” Luka asked after he handed me the bedding.
“Is it cool if I borrow, like, a pair of jamma pants, so I don’t have to sleep in my dress?” I asked.
I could’ve gone back to my own trailer to get something to sleep in, but I didn’t want to risk waking up my mom. She’d be all apologetic now, and she’d want to cry and hug me, and I was getting tired and didn’t really want to deal with that.
Luka got me a pair of pajama pants out of his wardrobe, and I went back into the bedroom to change. Their plastic accordion door actually worked, unlike my own, and I pulled it closed behind me.
I slipped off my dress, leaving me in my tank top and panties, and then I pulled on the pants. They were a little loose on me, so I pulled the drawstring as tight as I could.
As I was doing that, I heard this strange hissing sound, like how I’d imagine a really giant cobra would sound if it were really pissed off.
“Do you guys hear that?” I asked, and pulled the bedroom door open.
Luka nodded. “What the hell is it?”
“I have no idea,” I said, and the sound only seemed to grow louder.
Tim apparently decided that he should find out, so he opened the front door. He leaned out, looking around, and I came up behind him, standing on my tiptoes to see if I could see anything, but there was nothing. Tim stepped outside, and I followed him.
“Are you guys seriously going out there to check out a strange noise?” Hutch asked. “Didn’t you see Friday the 13th parts one through four?”
“Quiet,” Luka shushed him, but he stayed just inside the trailer.
“We’ll be right back,” I said as I ventured farther out into the campsite.
I could hear Hutch muttering, “So, I’ll take that as a no, you did not see them.”
Luka’s motorhome was the only one that had lights on, so everyone else must’ve been asleep. A streetlamp glowed behind Gideon’s trailer, and the moon shone above us, making it just bright enough where I could see.
Tim was ahead of me, and he went left, so I decided to go right. A few lawn chairs were sitting out in front of Betty and Damon’s trailer, and they’d been tipped over. Other than that, I didn’t really see any signs of trouble.
“Oh, shit,” Tim said.
Luka left the safety of his motorhome and jogged over to where Tim stood beside Gideon’s trailer, and I hurried over to join them.
“What?” I asked, but as soon as I reached him, I saw the problem. Spray painted in neon green on the side of Gideon’s trailer was one word:
It wasn’t even spelled right, but I’d come to learn that the people who usually defamed our trailers very often had poor spelling. No matter how many times I heard it hurled at me, it never hurt less, and it never felt any less angry or cruel.
“What a buncha dicks,” Luka said, and he took his boyfriend’s hand.
I sighed. “Looks like I’ll have something fun to scrub off tomorrow.”
Tim tilted his head, listening. “Do you still hear that?”
I hadn’t heard anything, but as soon as he mentioned it, I noticed a low, guttural sound. But it had a gurgle to it too, like an overflowing soda bottle mixed with an injured animal.
“That is not a spray can,” I said.