Page 59 of Trapper Road

It’s obvious that whatever’s going on, it’s because of me. I grab Willa’s arm and drag her into another room to get away from the incessant wailing. “What happened?” I ask.

She says nothing, just points. I turn my head to find an entire wall covered in photographs. All of them with the same girl in them. Juliette. And in the center, on the mantel, larger than the rest, is a photo from what looks like some sort of school dance.

It’s of the three friends, Juliette in the middle, flanked by Willa on one side and Mandy on the other. And Juliette is wearing the exact same dress that I am. Her hair is also styled the same way. So is her makeup.

There’s a mirror above the mantel, and as I draw closer to the photo, I see myself reflected above it. It’s ridiculous how much I look like her.

How much they’ve made me look like her.

No wonder her mom lost her ever-loving shit when she saw me.

I spin on my heel to confront Willa. “What the actual fuck?”

She holds up her hands, palms out, as if fending off an attack. “It was an accident, I swear. Me and Mandy did Juliette’s makeup that night too, and we only really know how to do that one look.” A tear starts down her cheek, followed by another. “Please, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t mean it, honest. And I know Mandy didn’t either.”

I cross my arms and continue to scowl at her. I’m trying to decide whether to believe her or not. Her excuse makes sense, but still, they made me look like an asshole. I don’t appreciate it.

Willa takes a cautious step forward and lowers her voice. “Look, don’t tell her I said this, but I think Mandy likes you. That’s why she wanted you to come hang out with us. She wants you to come to the party tonight and thought you’d be more likely to go if you were all made up.”

Something warms inside me at the thought of Mandy with her perfect hair and polished nails and smooth skin is interested in me. My anger recedes a bit.

“You know I can’t go looking like this.” I point to the photo on the mantel. “I can’t go looking like her.”

Willa nods. “I know. Here, why don’t I help you wash it off?” She leads me to a bathroom and grabs a washcloth, but I wave her off. It takes a while, but I manage to get all the makeup off, though I seriously mess up one of the Larsons’ towels in the process.

When I’m almost done there’s a knock on the door and when I open it, Willa silently hands over my clothes. I change quickly, glad to be out of the missing girl’s dress.

Freshly clean and scrubbed and back in my cutoffs and torn t-shirt, I emerge from the bathroom. Mandy’s waiting for me across the hall, leaning against the wall with one foot kicked up behind her.

When she sees me she pushes forward and comes toward me. “Willa told me you were upset.”

I cross my arms. “You pulled a dick move and made me look like an asshole.”

She winces. “You know I’d never do that on purpose.” When I don’t relent, she reaches out, hooking her fingers through mine. “You believe me, don’t you?”

She takes a step closer. I can feel the nearness of her. It makes it hard to concentrate, and it especially makes it hard to stay mad. “Please, tell me you’ll still come to the party tonight.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Even dressed like this?” Earlier this afternoon she’s been horrified by the prospect.

She smiles. Her eyes drop to my mouth and linger for a long moment. I start to grow hot and itchy under my skin. “You can dress however you want.”

I’m about to take the bull by the horns and kiss this girl when my phone rings. I’d ignore it except that there’s a chance it’s Connor. Since he’s the lookout, I should answer. I pull my phone from my pocket. “This better be good,” I snap at him.

“Get back here,” he says. “Mom’s coming to pick us up. She’ll be here in less than half an hour. She’ll lose her mind if she finds out you took off.”

I curse under my breath. “I’m on my way.” I give Mandy an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta run.”

“Tonight?” she asks. “The party?”

I press my lips to hers. The kiss is over before it even began. But I want to shock her and leave her off balance. “I’ll try.”

And then I turn and go, without looking back.

16

GWEN

The maps app estimates it will take half an hour to drive to the address my office found for Beau, but it doesn’t take into account the state of the old country roads. Between dodging potholes and getting stuck behind a tractor for several miles, it takes me closer to an hour. I reach the end of the gravel driveway and pull to the side of the road before shutting off the engine.

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