Evans smiles. “You already have.”

I scoff. “Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t be nearly as arrogant if you didn’t hold the knowledge that you got in. If you didn’t get in, you’d have nothing to lord over me. You wouldn’t be dragging it out like this.”

I inhale sharply. He’s right. He’s f**king right. I learned how he works, but he’s been learning how I work all along. Clever little rat.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad.” He smiles a softer smile. “I am glad you have the opportunity. I can rest easy knowing one of my brightest students has the opportunity to become brighter.”

I’m quiet. He gets up and stands at the window, watching the people at recess below.

“Because you are, you know. Bright. When you first came, I looked at your records and dismissed you as a troublemaker. But you’ve taught me otherwise. You’ve taught me a student’s potential is not solely in their test scores. I’d forgotten that. Years of being principal, instead of a teacher, distanced me from that truth. I became wrapped up in the statistics, and keeping up appearances.”

He turns back to me, and smiles.

“Thank you, Isis. And I’m sorry for everything. You may go, if you wish.”

I stand and put my backpack on. At the door, I turn.

“I got in.”

Evans nods, faint smile still in place. Just nods, doesn’t say anything preachy or high-handed, and turns back to the window.

I leave, feeling a little stranger. A little sadder.

A little better.

***

There are approximately nine trillion cells in my body and every single one of them hates hiking. And walking. Just moving for extended periods of time in general, really. All nine trillion of us would rather be in bed. In the shade. With a parfait.

“I can’t believe I ran myself skinny,” I pant and lean on a tree. Kayla is yards ahead of me, pushing over the hill of the hiking trail leading to Avery’s cabin.

“We’ve all done things we regret!” Kayla calls back.

“Like living.”

“Or not keeping up with a healthy exercise regimen!” She singsongs.

I stare at an oak’s trunk, and it seems to share my incredulousness. Regimen? I mouth. The tree shifts in the sunlight – a planty shrug.

“Have you actually been…studying?” I call.

“We’re adults now. Adults have to know words.”

“And here I thought the only words they knew were ‘booze’ and ‘meaningless sex’.”

Kayla laughs, and waits for me at the top of the hill.

“Don’t forget ‘bills’,” she adds when I catch up.

“H-How could I?” I pant.

“I think that’s what I’m most afraid of.”

“Bills?”

She nods. “Bills are scary. College doesn’t scare me. It’s just like high school, probably, except you live there.”

“People drink a lot in college.”

“We drink a lot now.”

“There’s lots of STDs.”

“What do you think Marina keeps itching her crotch in gym for?”

“And your dreams of being a rockstar get crushed.”

“I’m thinking more of a rock-et-star.” She points up into the sky.

I sputter a laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” she grabs her boobs. “These guys would appreciate the zero G. Also there’s like, neat-o space rocks and stuff. And aliens.”

“There’s no Cosmo in space,” I warn.

“Yeah but there’s the cosmos!”

I smirk. I’m rubbing off on her.

We walk for a bit. Or, Kayla walks, and I wheeze. But even through my burning lungs and running nose the woods are beautiful – dappled with light and fresh air – and the sound of the lake lapping close by is a lullaby only the birds get to hear every night. Kayla stops on another hill, and points to the cottage. It’s huge, with French windows and marble terracing, but at least there are no cars in the driveway. We’re free to snoop around, and as long as we don’t get too close to the house itself, we won’t trip any alarms.

“Welcome to Chateau Avery.”

“Thanks, ass-tronaut.” I tap her butt. She squeals and chucks a pinecone at my head. It sticks to my hair and I don’t bother taking it out because she gave it to me. She’s given me loads of stuff – cake pops and lattes and smiles – but somehow this pinecone means more to me than any of those things. It’s a little scratchy; a little uncomfortable sometimes. But it’s still with me, and it looks fabulous. Just like Kayla.

“So where do we start looking?” She asks.

“Wren said it happened in the woods.” I look around wildly. “Avery asked them to come outside, so it couldn’t have been too far from the cottage. It couldn’t have been too close to the road though, otherwise she’d run the risk of being seen. We gotta think like Avery.”

Kayla makes a disgusted face. I thump her on the back.

“Sacrifices have to be made. The brain cells will regenerate in ten hours. No one will ever have to know.” I whirl around and point south. “That patch of woods looks perfect. Far from the road, but not too far from the cottage.”

“Okay I know you’re like, really smart or whatever, but I knew Avery way before you even got here. I know how she thinks and she would not go that way.”

“Pray tell why not?”

“Because there’s tons of mud. Ew.”

“Newsflash – mud dries up! There might not have been mud ten years ago!”

“Newsflash - there’s always mud over there.” She looks around. “If I was Avery, and I wanted to lure people to do something bad to them, I’d do it that way. That’s where she and her brother went to let off fireworks when they were kids. You can’t see it from the cottage, so they never got busted by their parents.”

“I would kiss you right now, but currently it is six months too early to become a college lesbian.”

Kayla smirks, and we start towards the patch of forest. The trees get thicker as we go in, the trunks so huge they block out the view of the cottage and the lake. It’s a perfect, insulated border around a half-mile of dastardly evil-has-been-done-here ground.

“So what are we looking for?” Kayla asks. “Bullet shells? Blood? Human bones? Or - ” She shudders and whispers; “- Ruined clothes?”

“Anything that doesn’t look right. Anything that doesn’t look like it belongs in the forest.”

She nods, and we split up. My hands shake. I’m breathing shallow. This is it. This is the place it happened. I’m standing where it took place. Jack became a cold, unfeeling husk on the outside here. Sophia got hurt here. Wren’s guilt was born here, and Avery’s started burning here.

Now’s my chance.

I kneel on the forest floor, the layers of pine needles squishy. I dig. I turn over rocks. I look between roots and mushroom clumps and massive, rotting stumps. Kayla huffs and daintily inspects tree trunks and moves pine needles with her foot, but I can’t blame her. We’re not exactly CSI. She’s right. What the hell are we looking for?

After a half-hour of silent concentration, my hands are smeared in dirt and blood around my nails where I dug too hard. Oops. It doesn’t hurt, but it will later. It’s then I feel something cold and wet on my ankle, and summarily expire. Loudly.