Page 10 of Into the Dark, We Go
"Can’t you just leave well enough alone and avoid more drama?"
"Mom..."
"Was the police investigation not enough for you? And the attack on that poor girl?"
"Mom!"
After venting, she fell silent for a beat before adding, "I’m not going to enable this decision. It’s yours to make. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you."
I hung up, slamming the phone onto the seat with such force it bounced off and fell to the floor. I cursed under my breath as I bent down for it. Duluth was just a short distance away. I wondered if it would be a bigger mistake to pass up the chance to uncover something, even if it turned out to be nothing. Besides, I clung to the hope that getting some kind of closure couldpotentially save me from the uncertainty of moving back home and relying on my mom indefinitely.
With that thought in mind, I sent Mitchell a text with the picture of Lucas’s Post-It note:
"I’m coming with you. What time should we meet?"
September, 2016
He gave off a ‘fuck boy’vibe. And he could get away with it, too.
Beside the enormous bowl, where bottles of beer and cider bobbed in a sea of semi-melted ice, he spoke to me for the first time.
Tall, with wheat-blonde hair that he casually tossed back with a flick of his hand, he exuded a confidence that permeated the room. He was undeniably attractive, but it was his gentle assertiveness that truly commanded the space. The boys I went to school with weren’t like that. Lucas was laid-back and effortlessly cool.
"Need a hand?" He nodded towards the bottle I was struggling to open against the corner of the kitchen table. He pulled keys from his pocket and applied them to the bottle’s neck.
"I’m told the secret to a killer party is bein’ able to open a bottle with whatever’s lyin’ around. Luckily for you, I can open a bottle with just about anything."
"I was getting desperate. Thanks." I eagerly embraced the role of the distressed damsel. The cap jumped up with a click, almost hitting me in the face.
"Sorry!" He seemed genuinely embarrassed, quickly picked up the fallen cap, and twirled it in his hand. "This one’s got a little attitude, huh?"
The joke was silly, but I laughed. "Now that we’ve narrowly avoided a Prohibition-level disaster…" I was about to leave, not sure if he was willing to continue the conversation.
"Wait," he said, tilting his head. "Who’d you come with?"
"Just the girls from the track team."
"Track? No way! I would’ve pegged you as a cheerleader, hands down." He noticed my puzzled expression and flushed slightly. "Sorry, that’s... uh, not what I meant. You have really beautiful hair…And, ah, the rest of you, too."
I almost laughed again, observing his charming struggles with eloquence.
Turns out first impressions can be wrong.
We settledonto the blanket in the yard of the house, where the party buzzed. The thumping beat of music surrounded us, and in the distance, cheers and laughter erupted from a game of beer pong. In mid-September, the nights were cool. Lucas draped his jacket over my shoulders.
He had this cocky country-boy look, and the way he talked, prolonging vowels in words, turning ‘cat’ into ‘caet,’ and sprinkling in that ‘aw’ sound here and there, added to his overall charm.
Through the tattered clouds, the moon appeared. Lucas pointed to it. "You know, they say moonshine is best brewed durin’ the wanin’ moon."
I chuckled. "Family business or a hobby?"
"Neither, unfortunately."
"So, you haven’t tested it yourself?"
"Personally—no." His frown was all disappointment. "But my high school chemistry teacher conducted experiments."
"Breaking Bad style?"
