And with that, Miriam smiles some more and walks away. When I look down, the sticks in my arms are trembling. Because none of that has made me feel better. It’s just made me more convinced we have to go. Now. I’ll just have to make Cassie see that.
I follow the little orange dot of Cassie’s hat through the woods until I finally reach her and Fiona. A red gas can is on the ground between them, and Cassie is brushing at her legs and coat. They look wet, and I can smell the gas from steps away.
“I’m so sorry,” Fiona says to her, and obviously not for the first time. Fiona grips her fuzzy purple beret to the top of her head like she’s a teakettle about to blow.
Up close, she’s much prettier than I realized, with bright hazel eyes and freckles across her nose. Actually, this is the closest I’ve been to any of the others aside from Miriam and Quentin. All the little twosomes have mostly kept to themselves like islands in an archipelago.
Fiona steps forward, pulling her beret off her head like she’s going to try to dry Cassie’s jeans and coat with it. “I don’t know how I did that, Cassie. I’m such an idiot.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Cassie waves Fiona away. But she sounds like she might cry.
“What happened?” I ask, still clutching my sticks.
“I tripped on that rock, and the gas can just went flying,” Fiona says. “Of all the stupid things.”
“I’m just going to go … dry off,” Cassie says.
“Cassie, you can borrow some of my clothes,” Fiona offers. “I even have an extra coat. They’re in the red duffel bag in the cabin we’re staying in.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Cassie says as she starts for the driveway.
“I’ll come with you.” I smile back at Fiona as I drop my sticks. “Don’t worry. It was an accident.”
“But she seemed so upset already.” Fiona looks pained. “She must be overwhelmed. Excited, but overwhelmed.”
“I think more overwhelmed than excited.”
Fiona nods, then smiles. It’s a beautiful, serene smile. Maybe a tad too serene under the circumstances. “But once we’re out of here, done with all this, she’ll see how incredible it is. It’s going to be a fresh start for everyone.”
“Cassie, wait,” I call as we reach the top of the driveway, but she doesn’t turn, doesn’t slow down. Actually, it seems like she might even be speeding up. “Cassie, come on. Wait!”
Finally, she stops, her back to me, shoulders hunched in the pale-gray, misty morning. I have to jog to catch up before she takes off again, putting a hand on her arm when I finally reach her so she can’t take off again.
“We have to go, Cassie. Right now,” I whisper to the side of her face, when she still won’t look at me. “I think those people, North Point, might already have Jasper. Quentin found his jacket in the woods.” I’m worried what adding that kind of guilt could do to the whirlpool already churning inside her—after all, she’s the reason he left. But I’m more worried about what will happen if Cassie doesn’t wake up and realize the danger she’s in. “They could be coming for you.”
She turns to look at me, not shocked by this news about Jasper. More defeated. Like she’s already given up.
“We’ll have to go through the woods, but it’ll be better than just waiting here,” I go on, when she still does not speak. At least she’s listening. This is my chance to convince her. “I know the woods. My mom took me all the time, remember? I’m actually pretty good in an emergency, too. Much better even than I usually am.”
“It’s not you,” Cassie says, and with that same dead look in her eyes. “I don’t want to—I won’t go, Wylie. They’re right. It’s too dangerous.”
“Cassie, I don’t think we should be listening to—”
“Wylie, did you hear me?” She steps closer, her eyes bright and angry. “Because you need to hear me. We are not going anywhere.” And then she turns. “Don’t bring it up again. Just get your dad here, okay? I have to go change. I’ll be back.”
Cassie walks away, headed toward one of the other cabins, where Fiona’s clothes would probably be. As I watch her go, my panic blooms, blotting out my hurt feelings. Now what?
When I look over, Quentin is still working on something in front of the main cabin. I cross the grass toward him.
“Everything okay?” he asks when I’ve made my way over. “That looked tense.”
“Cassie is freaked out. It’s hard to blame her.”
“Ah, well, this thing sucks for her, that’s for sure,” Quentin says, inspecting a wire inside the black plastic box he’s working on. “Being an Outlier could be a cool thing if the world wasn’t such a screwed-up place.”
A place that needs a restart, it’s true. It reminds me of Fiona and Miriam and all their waxing philosophical about some kind of rapture.
“Is Fiona a professor?” I ask, because the way she was talking for sure didn’t seem very scientific.
“I think so. Ouch.” Quentin snatches his finger back and sucks on it like he just pricked it. “I think she teaches art or something like that, figurative drawing, maybe. Why?”