Chapter 21

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"Am I the only person who's like, remotely worried we'll get in trouble for this?" Star asks from the hood of the car beside me. We're watching Trent light the end of a firecracker in the dirt clearing of Peak Point, then run away manically towards Monty, who stands with the rest of their illegal loot.

"Yes!" Monty says, and then the firework starts to go off. It spazzes, jumping and swirling and noisy as can be.

"Surprised you're more worried about that than the beer," I say, bringing a can to my lips. It's rimmed with the color of my lipstick. "Cops could pull up any minute."

"Oh, I'm thinking about that too," she frowns, watching the fire cracker. Soon, it fizzles out, and Monty goes to light another one.

"Don't worry, Star," Trent slings his arm easily around her shoulders. It's still disarming to me how smooth he is with her, as if he'd been a lady's man all his life. I've been watching them all summer, and it still grounds me, reminding me that absolutely everything has changed. "Cops have forgotten all about this place, especially since the only cool people who still come here are gone half the year."

He's right. He's leaving for Georgia Tech tomorrow, and I for SCAD the day after. Monty isn't coming with, saying he's busy with work, but I really think it has more to do with the fact that he wants me to have one last weekend with just my family.

The future for us is as uncharted and daunting as Star and Trent's. The two of them are going to try the long distance thing. Monty, on the other hand, doesn't want me to miss out on anything while I'm away at college.

"Is this just an excuse so you can still be on the market?" I had asked a few days ago when the dreadful topic had come up. I'd been watching him swing around the kitchen area of the trailer, prepping our plates for a dinner of roast chicken and veggies. And while it was meant to be a joke, really it was just a cover up of the fact that I was heartbroken that he hadn't asked to be in a relationship. He'd asked Ashley, hadn't he? So what was the problem with asking me?

"This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you," he had said, setting a steaming plate in front of me. His face was still rough from where CJ had nailed him, but the swelling had gone down and the bruises had faded from black and blue to yellow and green. He had taken my hand, maybe because he could tell how hurt I was. "I'm still waiting for you to wake up from whatever dream it is you're stuck in where you actually want to be with me, honestly."

"When are you going to get it through your thick head that I'm in love with you?" I'd said, leaning closer. "I'm not as clueless as I was in high school anymore. This is what I want."

He sighed, a wonderful sound, like he's the one lost in a dream. "While you make a compelling argument, I still think you'll change your mind."

"I won't."

"You might."

"Monty."

"How's this?" he said, squeezing my fingers. "I'll come down once a month to visit. We'll hang out, you'll tour me around, do all the couple stuff. If you still want to be with me by Christmas, then we'll make it official."

I had pouted and whined throughout dinner, but I had reluctantly agreed.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Monty looks over at me amidst the show. His now healed face flickers warm colors as the firework sizzles out, his eyes gleaming in the low light. From here, he looks kind of scary, with the dark eyes and the crazed hair and the wolfish expression. Like a man in a photograph who lived long ago, or a demon or a ghost. For a moment, just a moment, I see where CJ is coming from with all his accusations about Monty and his outward appearances.

But I've never been one to scare off easily. Plus, I like demons. So I hook my finger through Monty's belt loop and tug him towards me.

"Kind of sad that it took all summer for the four of us to hang out again," Star says, her small chin perched on Trent's shoulder as we turn towards the view. Just over the hill top, our quiet town's lights twinkle in the distance. A place I can always fall back on, no matter how far I go.

"I know, I know," Monty says, feeling a roast coming on. "It took me a while to come around." He eyes me again. "I was distracted, is all."

"Next summer," Trent says in a faraway voice. My head tilts towards the stars, imagining. "Next summer will be ours."

"Why are we talking about next year already?" I say. "We still have fall, winter and spring break. I'm gonna come back and annoy the shit out of all of you."

They laugh. Star squeezes my arm in solidarity. Because even though everything is different, some things are still the same, like Trent, Star, me, and Monty. The Brainiac, the mom, the fool and the outcast.

"Should we set off another one?" Monty asks, pushing his long hair out of his face.

"How about we tell all the ghost stories like we used to?" I suggest, and Star's eyes widen in fear. "Trent, tell us that one about the couple getting murdered out here, the rip off of the Phantom of Texarkana?"

"No!" Star shrieks, sliding off the car and pulling her jacket close. "If you start that shit up, I'm leaving, for real."

"I don't see what you get so scared for," Monty says as Trent begins to circle her like prey. "You already know all the stories aren't true."

"On the contrary," Trent says evilly, his eyebrows rising. "All the stories are real. And all couples who come here are cursed with the same fate." And then he begins to chase her. Star screams bloody murder and bolts towards the lamppost at the end of the lot.

I laugh, clapping my hands together. Instead of watching our friends, Monty is back to watching me.

"What's on your mind, killer?" I say, brushing my leg against his.

He shrugs. "Starting to rethink what I said the other day, about waiting until Christmas."

I must grin like an idiot. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he echoes, stepping between my legs and tilting my face towards his. "What do you think? Should we just do the damn thing? Or let fate decide?"

"Screw fate," I say instantly, pulling him into me. Star squeals at being caught by Trent. Somewhere in the distance, CJ is hanging on to his prom king title, mom and Sandy are tucking Stace into bed, and my dad, though long gone, is watching. It's impossible to know what he would think of Monty, but I hope from wherever he is, he's rooting for us.

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