A crisp summer breeze brushes against Victoria’s olive skin, blowing her brunette hair, pulled up in a high ponytail. Some stray strands get caught in the wind, tickling her delicate face. Twilight surrounds her, standing in the parking lot of the Oldcrest. Tiny, twinkling stars dot the night sky, blinking down at her.
Her eyes dart around the lot, almost entirely filled up by cars of varying sizes and colors. Finally, her gaze lands on one particular car, a metallic blue convertible. A boy is leaning on the hood, sulking all alone. Even through the dark, she can easily recognize him: Spencer.
It doesn’t take another moment of hesitation for her to approach him. He is chugging down the contents of a flask while a lit cigarette rests between his forefinger and middle finger. His eyes are hidden under shades, hiding days’ worth of tears. His lips have resorted to the straight line they have been in for a couple of weeks now—two to be precise.
“Spencer, stop,” she pleads, part irritated, part concerned. “I know you are bummed, I know you are upset, but all these booze you’re chugging won’t help! And don’t get me started on the cigarettes. You—”
Spencer holds one hand up, enough to cut Victoria off. Silence dawns on them both.
“You can’t stay like this,” Victoria finally says, breaking the silence. “This trip to Nonna’s was meant for you to get your mind off Jenna and her death. You’re supposed to lay off the alcohol and the cigarettes.”
Gulping the last of his drink, Spencer lowers the flask and puts his cigarette to his lips. Yet he still doesn’t utter even a single word.
Aggravation swells inside Victoria, but she takes a deep breath in attempt to flush it all out. She opens her mouth, as if to speak, but before she can even say one word, a ringing scream reverberates through the air.
“Of course, flake out on me like you always do, you son of a bitch!”
The voice is a familiar one; it is a girl. Glancing to where the voice comes from, Victoria’s assumption is confirmed. It is Alice. Her straight, flaxen locks stand out strikingly in the midst of the incandescence. When she steps down under a lamppost, her whole figure becomes more tangible; her swollen, emerald eyes are glazed with fresh tears, some even still rolling down her cheeks. She is hugging her arms, tucked away under her woven cardigan.
For the first time that day, Spencer yanks his shades off and lays his gaze on Alice. He drops the cigarette butt on the ground and stomps on it as he makes his way to approach Alice. Before he can venture any further, Victoria catches his wrist, causing him to jerk around. His eyes meet Victoria’s pleading expression, as if begging him not to go, but he immediately fixes his stare back at Alice and disregards his girlfriend. Concern dots Victoria’s face as she sticks close to Spencer’s heels.
“Alice?” Spencer calls out.
Turning around, Alice’s jaw drops at the sight of Victoria and Spencer, but it isn’t long before her face twists into something more disparaging. Dread fills Victoria as she witnesses this mismatch made in hell.
Alice turns her head away with a smug look when Spencer reaches out for her. Another hand reaches out to her, but this time, it is less calloused and smaller. It is Victoria. She forces her mien to soften a bit, but only a dint is what she achieved. “Fancy meeting you guys here.” A bitter smile creeps up Alice’s lips.
The thing about re-encountering your best friend that got distant for the whole past month is unnerving—awkward, at its best. Her interlaced fingers fiddle behind her back as she inches closer to Alice. “A pleasure, Alice.” A grim silence hangs in the air, tightly gripping on the three teenagers by the dusty road. “So . . . Spencer and I were just” —she abruptly stops to find the appropriate word— “concerned about what happened earlier. What, pray tell, happened?”
“It’s not worth my time, Tori darling. It’s just another discontented boy who can’t keep his d in his pants.” Alice forces an even wider smile. Behind Victoria, Spencer slinks back a little bit, his cheeks burning. “Now, if you would please excuse me. I . . .” She stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes dart from left to right, trying to think of a way to slip out of this untimely coincidence. Only then she realizes that she is all alone—unless for these two.
Victoria arches one brow and flashes a grin at Alice. “Spencer and I were just going to grab some coffee before we hit the road to his Nonna’s. You can tag along, if you want. Nonna would be elated to finally see you.”
A gruff shuffling voice comes from behind Victoria. Through the corner of her eye, she can see Spencer behind her tensing up. He chews on his bottom lip, and his palms are getting sweatier and sweatier by time.
Shock jolts up in Alice’s face, as if she just saw a ghost. “Nonna? I-I don’t think it’s the best time to revisit Nonna for me.”
This time, it is Victoria’s turn to be surprised. “You’ve seen Nonna before? This only gives you reason to come along! Isn’t it, Spencer?” She turns around and fixes a glare on Spencer, earning a timid nod from him. She can see that his straight face has morphed into a tauter one, conveyed even more by his body gestures.
Words come out of Alice’s lips as a mere stutter. When she thought the night couldn’t get worse after she just got dumped and left in the middle of heaven-knows-where, she definitely wasn’t prepared for this. Looking at Victoria’s gleaming smile, she has to agree reluctantly, because walking back to town—forty miles away—would always be the last option. Maybe seeing Spencer’s Nonna would be better, after all.
“Come on, I am dying for some caffeine right now.” She skips up ahead, eager to enter the hipster coffee shop. Alice and Spencer tag along behind her, keeping distance between them; Alice maintains her bitter face, and Spencer remains downturned.
“Sorry about your sister.” Alice takes a quick glance at Spencer, in which Spencer returns with another quick glance, but they both look back down again.
A bell overhead rings as Victoria pushes the glass doors open, garnering the attention of all men inside.
“What are you doing here?” A bulky guy walks up to her, his voice gruff and his eyes narrowing at her.
Spencer and Alice soon catch up, walking into the dimly lit bar. Their appearance rises low murmurs among the men as a familiar face shows up among the sea of hostile miens.
Along with the face comes the body, wading through until he reaches up front. His bright red hair is disarranged in messy clumps, there is a fair amount of glitter on his face, and his shirt is unbuttoned. “Tori?” He glances past Victoria and spots Spencer and Alice, too. “Spencer, Alice? What are you guys doing here?”
Another boy, probably a little more than eighteen, emerges from the crowd. His hair is also in disarray, and glitter sparkles on his face and body. He is one step away from being stark naked. He nudges Wesley. “You know these people?”
“I . . . will be right back.” A glare crosses Wesley’s face, but it quickly drops as he takes Victoria by the wrist and pulls her outside, Spencer and Alice following closely behind. “What in your sane minds do you think you’re doing?”
Victoria puts up a confused expression before she forces a weak smile. “Please don’t tell me that is not an artisanal coffee shop.”
“Holy crap, Victoria, who told you that?”
A faint blush creeps up Victoria’s cheeks as she sinks into embarrass-ment. “No one—it’s just what I assumed. From the outside, it looks like one!”
“Who puts up a supposedly cozy café with overpriced menu items outside the town?” Alice sneers. “That’s a gay bar, isn’t it?”
Wesley’s jaw drops, so do Victoria’s and Spencer’s. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this. It’s just—after everything that went down in Wolfwater, and after my mom got sick, I just have to find something to do to pay for college later on. I can’t get one in town . . .” He casts a cynical glare Spencer’s way. Angst burns in his eyes as his fists clench beside him. “Not after what your perfect little boyfriend and his dear little sister did.”
Gritting his teeth, Spencer lurches forward at Wesley, seizing him by the collar of his shirt. “That was uncalled for, Wesley the Blameless.” Spencer’s voice is a low hiss that it sounds almost inaudible to Victoria and Alice. His face is inches from Wesley’s, and he can sense Wesley tensing his muscles.
Spencer’s warm breath hits Wesley’s face, a striking contrast to the cold summer wind. The pungent scent of liquor is infused to his breath, causing Wesley to wince a little. An unhealthy hostility radiates from Spencer; his eyes are ferocious, and it’s like nothing Wesley has ever seen before. Seeing Spencer this way really unnerves him—it frightens him. “But what I said is true, isn’t it?”
With a forceful shove, Spencer releases Wesley off his monstrous grip. “I am sick of this shit. Let’s go, Victoria.” He storms off in the direction of his car without looking back, putting his shades back on.
Victoria pleadingly looks at Alice, but Alice just shrugs. “I think I’ll be just good with Wesley. He’s off his shift in a few, right?” Swaying her head to the right, she expectantly waits for Wesley to respond, but he just stands there, unwavering from his belligerent pose. “Look, Tori . . . I really appreciate you looking out for me. I really do. But there are things that can be dealt with, but there are also things that cannot. Spencer is one that can’t be dealt with. I really miss you, Victoria. I miss us. The five of us, as friends. But under these circumstances, I don’t think we can go back to what we were one month ago. Let this be, for now.” She steps forward and pulls Victoria into a tight hug.
“The next time you see Nicholas, tell him I said hi.”
Suddenly, Spencer’s voice breaks through the air. “Victoria, you coming?”
Flashing one last smile at Alice and Wesley, Victoria turns on her heels and walks away, leaving the two in silence.
Turning around, Alice looks at Wesley. “So,” she starts, “you finally came out of the closet?”
Wesley’s eyes grow large, his eyebrows hoisted up high. “W-What? You know I’ve never been in a closet, right? I had a boyfriend—”
“A boyfriend?” Alice’s face beams with amusement. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
A blush spreads across his face, turning his cheeks a glowing pink. “No one in particular.” His eyes dart to all directions to avoid eye contact with Alice. “You know what? My shift ends in a couple minutes. We should head back to town after.” With that, Wesley sprints off in the direction of the bar, leaving Alice standing alone in the parking lot, stifling a laugh.

The sound of revving engine tears through the silence of the bleak night as Wesley’s car drives down the road. He focuses on the road ahead, closed in by forests, but flinches a tiny bit every time Alice inhales or exhales. Constantly squirming in his seat, Wesley tries his best not to make eye contact.
“Wesley, I—” Alice is cut short by a sudden rumble of the car’s engine. Her jaw instantly drops at the noise. “Good lord, Wes, what was that?”
“It’s . . . just the twenty-year-old car that has never been upgraded. Look, Alice, my family is broke. This job is the closest I get to being paid, and this car is the most I could use.”
An array of emotions surge through Alice—sympathy, pity, and concern to begin with. “Wes, I never knew. If I should keep this to myself, I swear I will.” She looks down to her fingers latched on her laps, folding and un-folding. “If this is what makes you so distant, I—”
“I swear it isn’t,” Wesley abruptly interjects, with a harsh and urgent tone never in his intention. “It’s . . . something else.”
The two of them falls into silence, Alice sinking deep into her thoughts. She keeps on thinking about the death of Spencer’s sister, which oddly drove them apart for some unthinkable reason.
Wesley’s car suddenly jounces up, snapping Alice out of her pondering. It comes with an ear-splitting clatter of metal against metal, and only a few seconds pass before the car skids to a halt.
“F it!” he screams as his fists slam onto the driving wheel. Leaning forward, he rests his forehead on the wheel, rage and desolation encumbering him. Alice stretches out an arm, but pulls it back on second thoughts.
Smoke rises from the hood of the car, and the sickening odor of burnt rubber mixed with bitter-scented smoke wafts into the car when Wesley opens the door. It is obnoxious and putrid, hanging in the air and spoiling the fresh smell of pine and sandalwood.
“Wesley, is your car okay?”
A huff of exasperation answers her question blatantly: no, it isn’t. “I think it’s overheating.”
Under usual circumstances, Alice would have exploded, but thank the heavens this isn’t one of those ‘usual circumstances’. She gulps down, flushing away all her intents to blow up. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she slinks out of her seat and steps out of the car. She turns around and finds Wesley slouched on the ground, his fingers buried in his hair. His brown eyes are glazed with tears that are ready to spill any second now, if he bursts past his breaking point. “Hey, calm down, okay?” Alice plants a firm grip on his shoulder. “I might know how to fix this.”
Wesley looks up to her and forces a weak smile, which fades away in a split second.
Standing back up, Alice opens her phone keypad and long-presses 2, calling Nicholas. It only takes three rings for him to answer. “Nick, I need you to do me a favor. Wesley’s car broke down here—I actually don’t know where. Maybe I could send you the location?”
“Wait, what? How did you end up in the middle of nowhere?” Nicholas sounds badly concerned.
“It’s a long story, and it doesn’t matter right now,” slurs Alice. “Can you just get me a tow truck here?”
“Okay. I’ll get there as soon as I could. I l—look forward to being there soon. Bye.”
The call is disconnected before Alice can say anything else. She takes a deep breath, shaking away all the uneasiness calling Nicholas left her.
About half an hour passes before the low hum of a sleek car engine breaks through the silence. Nicholas arrives in his father’s company’s tow truck, and he quickly hops off the truck once it comes down to a full stop. “Are you guys okay? What happened to your car?”
Wesley and Alice steps out of the run down car; Wesley greets Nicholas with a faint smile, but Alice only spares Nicholas a quick glance before she looks away from him.
“It’s just this lame tin can I call my car.” Wesley shrugs, pocketing his hands. “Thanks for coming, Nick. I really owe you one.”
Crouching down, Nicholas attaches the hook of his tow truck to the bottom of Wesley’s car. “No biggie. Friends do favors, and count this as one.”
For the first time tonight, Wesley’s face brightens up. “Thank you. I always knew that I can count on you. You’re always the brains of the group, after all.”
The two boys lightly chuckle, but Alice can only give a sheepish grin.
“Why don’t we get going?” Alice abruptly blurts.
“That’s a good idea.” Nicholas walks past Alice, his hands brushing against hers. He looks up to Alice, meeting her surprised face, but it quickly melts away into a beam. Smiling back at her, he opens the door to his truck and gestures inside. “After you.”
Once the three are seated in the vehicle, Nicholas starts the engine and drives down the road. He turns the radio on, only to hear nerve-wracking news he have truly been wanting to avoid.
“The two men who were found dead around two weeks ago near the Maurice River in New Jersey are now identified as Donovan Brunswick and Montgomery Ronan,” the radio broadcaster announces. “The cause of their deaths have been determined as loss of blood. This case is being treated as a homicide, and—”
Nicholas averts his eyes from the road ahead to turn the radio off, failing to notice the fork ahead. Before he can decide which path to take, a bat flies down and strikes the truck’s windshield with a loud thump.
“Nicholas, look out!” Wesley yells.
Jumping up, Alice grips Nicholas’s arm with an inexplicable strength, her nails digging into the sheer fabric of his top shirt. His arms tense in reaction, the muscles flexing and becoming hard. He rapidly turns the driving wheel to the left, taking the wrong path.
The wind carries the bat away, and now they can see that the windshield has a little crack on it. The life-threatening moment leaves Nicholas hyper-ventilating, Alice still gaping in shock beside him, and Wesley’s heart erratically pounds with an uneven thrum. Only then Alice realizes that she still has her fingers locked down on Nicholas’s arm. They exchange a glance before Alice retracts her hands, mouthing “sorry” to Nicholas.
Nicholas gazes outside at the unfamiliar vicinity, scrutinizing the terri-tory. To the left are towering pine trees, looming over the truck and rising up to the night sky. The pine forest has always given off a bone-chilling vibe at night. On the right lies a vast, grassy plain, separating the dusty road from a distant, amber-lit village.
Suddenly, the car starts to sputter as it slows, down to the point it comes to a halt.
“Dang it, looks like we’re out of gas.” Nicholas looks at Alice and Wesley, who are staring back at him with bewilderment, eyes ogling as if they’re ready to fall out of their sockets.
“You mean we’re stuck here without gas? In the middle of nowhere?” Wesley’s tone is colored by disbelief.
Alice lets out a scoff, partly in bemusement, partly in incredulity. “Isn’t it funny that this is the second trouble strikes a vehicle? I can’t believe I am stranded twice in one night.”

Flicking his second cigarette butt out the open window, Spencer earns a cynical glare from Victoria. “You smoking already pollutes the air, and now you’re polluting the ground. Nice way to cope with loss.”
“Barely,” Spencer spits. The bitterness in his voice is so thick that it instantly sends a pang of regret Victoria’s way.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I—”
Spencer holds up his bandaged hand up, silencing Victoria. “If I were you, I would be gdamned sick of me anyways.”
“How’s your hand?” she asks, trying to change the topic.
The response she receives is a mere shrug. “I’ve stopped punching the walls, if that’s what you’re asking.” He takes a deep breath, letting it all out again slowly. “Look, Tori, I can’t have you fretting over me like this. Think about other more important stuff. You’ve got college, family—“
“I want to stop you right there and say that those things are not more important than my boyfriend.” She cocks her head sideways, looking at Spencer. “I love you, and I care about you.”
A bright smile lights up on Spencer’s face. He leans forward to kiss Victoria, but before their lips can even touch, he catches sight of something in front of the car. “Look out!”
Victoria jerks her head and witnesses what the blinding headlights shine at. The silhouette of a young woman is apparent before them, her face barely decipherable. The only thing prominent they can easily recognize is her fiery, strawberry blond hair.
Being the girl with the poor reflex, Victoria only hits the brakes while her hands freezes on the steering wheel. Spencer acts briskly and spins the wheel.
The automobile swerves in a circular motion, its passengers gyrated inside. The tires screeches with an ear-splitting screech, piercing through the dead silence. Victoria’s head collides with the steering wheel in front of her, ripping the delicate skin on her forehead. It takes a few life-threatening seconds before the front part of the car impacts a thick tree.
Spencer’s and Victoria’s breaths are cut short by erratic gasps. With a spinning and blurred vision, they rouse from their cowering position, exiting the car. They take a moment to stare at the wreck lying before them. Guilt weighs down on Victoria, and Spencer enters a haze. A stinging sensation sears across Victoria’s left forehead, something she didn’t feel before. Fresh, red blood stains her fingers when she lifts them up and touches the pain.
Three sets of hurried footsteps approach, as Alice, Wesley, and Nicholas come into sight. Their gaze immediately falls on the black SUV, its windshield cracked with a spider-web pattern and the left wing mirror is left dangling off the car. The hood is badly dented and scraped, a thin sheet of smoke escaping into the air.
Wesley takes a good, long stare at the wreck. “Shit.”