Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I can’t say it enough. I’m so glad you’re all here,” Mom said, looking out at us as we roasted marshmallows after dinner. “You doing okay so far, Sammie?”
“I’m tolerating it,” I said.
“Oh, please, he’s loving every minute of it,” Fox said.
“You speak for me now?” I teased him.
Fox shrugged. “I’m just speaking the truth. I saw you walking around taking photos of everything while I started the fire.”
“Hey, all three of you did a great job starting the fire,” Mom said, always the peacemaker. “And thank you. It’s a good one.”
“I guess I’m doing more than just tolerating the trip so far, yes,” I said. “This place is beautiful, even if it’s terrifying.”
“What’s so scary about it?” Jim asked, popping a charred marshmallow in his mouth. “Did your mom tell you about the ghost in the woods?”
“Don’t start with the ghost stories, hun,” Laura said, squeezing Jim’s arm. “You know Logan doesn’t like it.”
“Mom, I’m not eight years old anymore,” Logan protested. “Tell all the ghost stories you want.”
Uncle Jim looked like he’d just won the lottery. He leaned in closer toward the fire and launched into a ghost story, putting on his best spooky voice. At the end of the story, the ghost was said to have been sneaking around the forest the whole time, only to pop out from behind people as they sat around a campfire like we were doing now.
Right as Jim finished the story, Cocoa let out a low series of little barks as she looked at the trees.
“Oh God,” I said, sitting up straight, my skin prickling.
I heard Fox’s low laugh from behind me.
“Shut up,” I hissed at him as I stood up, looking over at Cocoa. She barked a few times again and fear moved down my spine like ice.
“Ghost is gonna get you, Sam,” Fox said, his voice low.
I walked to the other side of the fire, trying to peer into the trees, which were only illuminated by flickering fire light. I took a few steps forward, going nowhere near the trees, but trying to see what Cocoa was fussing about.
I felt a cold grasp on the back of my arm. I jumped and shouted.
“Fuck!” I yelled, turning around to see Fox’s amused face. “Jesus. Why would you do that? And why are your hands so damn cold?”
A few paces behind us, everyone else around the campfire laughed.
“I was holding a beer,” Fox said. “If you’re going into the forest, I’m going with you.”
“I wasn’t planning to go in,” I said.
“Because of the ghost. Of course,” Fox said.
“Give me a break. Even if it’s not a ghost, it could be a bear, or a venomous snake, or—shh!”
I heard a sound from the forest, and at the same time, Cocoa’s ears perked up.
“Over there,” Fox said, pointing in the direction.
We waited a few moments. My heart was pounding like there was a mallet inside my chest. We heard the sound again, louder this time.
“Oh God,” I said. I involuntarily reached out and grabbed Fox’s arm, which was a good bit warmer than his hand had been. I didn’t care anymore how dumb I might look.
“Fuck. Look over there,” Fox said, nodding a little to the right.
And then I saw it.
My heart instantly calmed down as I saw two deer. Fawns, actually, slowly walking around right at the edge of the forest.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“They’re incredible,” Fox said, his voice low.
“They’re so small. God, I wish I could take a photo.”
The small deer weren’t looking at us. But after about a minute of stillness, a much bigger mama deer walked up behind them and saw us. She froze at first, but then soon all three turned around, heading back off deep into the woods.
I realized I was still gripping Fox’s arm, holding close to him like his body was some sort of security blanket.
I expected him to crack a joke about it, pull away, and somehow make fun of me, but instead when he turned to me, he reached out and grabbed my other arm. He gave it a gentle squeeze, meeting my eyes in the low glow of the fire.
“Amazing, huh?” he said softly.
“I’ve never seen anything like that.”
There was the faint smell of his cologne again. Why did I like being close to Fox so much, all of a sudden? Was I really that starved for touch?
He let go, and I missed his warmth immediately even though I felt stupid for it. I followed him back to the fire.
“Apparently the ghost doesn’t come out until tomorrow night,” Fox reported. “This was just some deer.”
“Ooh, maybe we can have venison,” Jim pondered.
“Jim! Don’t even joke about that.”
Jim chuckled. “I know, I know, we aren’t here to hunt.”
Apparently, as Fox and I had been investigating the forest, Mom and Greg had turned their tinny old boombox on and were playing a Frank Sinatra cassette tape. The two of them were slow dancing next to their RV, making googly-eyes at each other. After the song ended, Mom turned to us, clearly distracted.