Chapter Text
The road was really dark.
Flynn leaned forward, trying to see past the rain to the black asphalt beyond. This far out into rural Idaho there were no streetlamps, and the illumination of her headlamps seemed terribly weak against the starless night, the dark woods on either side of the two-lane road, and the rain.
The thock, thock, thock of the windshield wipers and the constant patter of the rain were the only noise. The radio signal had petered out an hour ago. Flynn had thought she’d have music all the way to Cradle Lake, so she’d left her phone charger packed in her bag in the trunk. There was no way she was going to Bluetooth in music from her phone. She’d hate for her battery to die this far out in the middle of nowhere.
Julie’s aunt Victoria lived in Cradle Lake, and she’d told Flynn it was off the beaten path. But Flynn hadn’t realized how far off the path Victoria had meant. It’d been at least an hour since she’d passed another car, and almost forty-five minutes since she’d even seen a porch light.
Of course with the rain it was hard to seen much of anything. It was scary, driving in the rain like this. She’d lived her whole life in LA where rain was a rare occurrence. A downpour like this was practically nonexistent. It made her foot light on the gas pedal and heavy on the brake, and made her wish she’d never decided to come.
Flynn gritted her teeth against the thought. She didn’t mean it, because she wasn’t afraid. She was strong and brave and every inch her father’s daughter. He wouldn’t’ve been scared of a little rain, and she wouldn’t be, either.
She took a fortifying breath, squaring her shoulders and pressing a bit harder on the gas. Fuck Carrie, she thought. Fuck LA and fuck Julie. Flynn was happy to get out of LA and experience something different. She was happy she was going to live with a woman she’d never met and work at her diner. Rural Idaho was going to be an adventure and Flynn was going to love every second.
There was a bright flash of lightning followed by a thunderous boom and Flynn shrieked, eyes flying to the side of the road as if it was the source of the sound.
There was a man standing there, in front of the woods, barely illuminated by her headlamps. She had a fleeting glimpse of pale skin and wet hair and shoulders slumped against the rain. He looked absolutely miserable.
“Don’t do it,” she admonished herself even as she slowed the car and brought it to the shoulder. “What am I doing?” she whispered as the car came to a halt.
There was brave and there was crazy, and she was pretty sure picking up a hitchhiker—a white, male hitchhiker at that—fell completely into the “crazy” category.
But it was late and pouring rain, and while she didn’t want to be murdered, she didn’t want to leave him, either. The weather wasn’t fit for man nor beast, as her mamma would say. She just hoped he was a lot more of the former than the latter.
She got out of the car, and her hair was immediately lashed by the wind and the rain. Attempting to shield her eyes, she squinted into the darkness. There was another flash of lightning and she saw him for a split second. He was a few yards up the road: pale skin, dark hair and jacket. It looked like he hadn’t even noticed her car.
“Hey!” She waved her hand. “Hey!”
He turned, looking at her, then jogged towards the car. She got back into the driver’s seat, shivering as the cold water slid down her neck. She’d been outside for less than a minute and she was already uncomfortably wet. Whomever this man was, he’d be soaked to the bone.
There was a tap on her window, and Flynn jumped. “Don’t let me die,” she prayed, then leaned over and unlocked the door.
He slid in, landing heavily on the seat and shutting the door solidly behind him. He scraped his wet hair back from his face and then turned to smile at her. “Thanks for picking me up. Not many cars by tonight.”
Oh, he was cute. His soaked hair looked black in the overhead light, and was dripping water down his pale, perfect skin, lightly decorated with a sprinkling of freckles. His cheekbones were sharp, his nose and mouth well-crafted. He was wearing a black leather jacket that hadn’t done very much to protect him from the rain, but Flynn didn’t mind considering how it made his white T-shirt stick to his well-defined chest. But it was his eyes that were truly spectacular. They were a bright, light green, like looking at sunshine through stained glass, and equally as mesmerizing. If he was an example of what rural Idaho had to offer, Flynn was going to have a fun summer.
“Happy to help,” Flynn said, smiling into his eyes and enjoying the light uptick of her heartbeat as she looked at him.
He grinned back, his eyes crinkling. “This weather’s something else, huh?”
“Do you guys often get storms like this?”
“Not too often.” He looked down at this jacket and grimaced. “I’m going to get your car all wet.” He started shrugging it off.
“You can leave it on—” Flynn started, but he’d already managed to get it off and he tossed it gently into her back seat. He ran his hands through his hair again, causing a small waterfall down his neck.
He laughed. “I’m so wet! It’s been a long time since I’ve been caught in the rain.”
Flynn did her seatbelt back up, then gestured for him to do the same. She waited for him to get buckled in before starting the car and slowly pulling back onto the highway. “What were you doing out there anyway?”
His expression crumpled. “I was… looking for something.”
That was strangely cryptic and made her want to ask a ton of questions, but Flynn knew a conversation ender when she heard it. It was fine. Wet white boy could have his privacy. “So, where am I taking you?”
“Moore Avenue?”
“Moore Avenue!” Flynn repeated. “That’s where I’m staying!” She almost asked him if he knew Victoria, but then clamped the question behind her teeth. She didn’t know this guy at all. He might be cute, but that didn’t mean harmless. Better not give him too much information until she’d sussed him out better.
“Yeah?” His grin lit his eyes. “I’ve never seen you before. Did you move into the Barnes’ place?”
Flynn had no idea who the Barnes were. “No. I’m staying with a friend, actually. I’m just here for a couple months.”
“Oh,” he said, and maybe Flynn was reading way too much into the first five minutes of them meeting, but did he sound a tiny bit disappointed? “Where are you visiting from?”
“Los Angeles,” Flynn said proudly. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, hoping he’d be suitably impressed.
He was. “You are?” he said excitedly. “Oh wow! I’ve always wanted to go there! Me and my friend, Bobby, we’re planning on heading there. We’re both musicians and we want to make it big! LA is totally the place to do it!”
“You’re a musician?” Flynn’s mind immediately flashed to Julie and her band, and Carrie, and how good things had been in their music program until that final year. “My… friend’s a musician, too! She and her band are touring California right now. They’re called Sunset Curve. Ever heard of them?” Flynn found herself hyping Julie and the band like she always did. Clearly old habits died hard.
The man shook his head. “No, but maybe they haven’t had a lot of air time on the radio?”
Flynn giggled. He was cute and funny. “Nope, not yet. But they’re getting there. They released their first album on Spotify. What do you play?”
“Guitar.” It was now his turn to sound proud. “But I can also play banjo and bass. I taught myself, because that way I can join any band no matter what they play.”
“Damn, boy! That’s really cool!” Flynn said. “The members of Julie’s band can only play one instrument each.”
“Bobby can play guitar, too,” he said. “And we both can sing. We figured we might be able to make it as a duo if we can’t find a band to join? I can hardly wait to get there.” He sighed wistfully.
“Well, maybe I can bring you with me when I go back,” Flynn offered. She didn’t know this guy at all, but she knew that kind of longing. She’d heard it enough times in Julie’s voice after her mom died and it was so hard for her to play again. “You can help me pay for gas.”
“Really?” His green eyes were absolutely sparkling. “That’d be amazing!”
Flynn shrugged. “I’m going back there anyway. And besides, you’ll be good company.” She gave him a flirty smile before turning back to the road. The rain was finally letting up, but the night was still startlingly dark.
“What’s LA like?” Reggie asked after they’d driven a few minutes in companionable silence. “I’ve never been out of Cradle Lake.”
“Its… “ Flynn paused. How could she describe a city like LA? “It’s really big,” she settled on. “And it’s full of cars. But there are parts that are really rich, and really pretty, and others that are really ugly. There are a lot of homeless people downtown, and a lot of very wealthy people. It’s a city full of contrasts, but I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“I’d love to see it,” he said softly.
“You will,” Flynn promised him. She glanced at him again, suddenly realizing she wasn’t sure how old he was. He looked to be around her age, but… “You’ve graduated high school, right?”
A flash of pain went through his green eyes. “Graduating’s not really my priority.”
Flynn winced sympathetically. Luke had run away from home in his last year of high school. Graduating hadn’t been a priority for him, either. Clearly, there was some drama there. Drama that wasn’t any of her business. “I get that.”.
“Have you graduated?”
She grinned. “Yup! I’m heading to UCLA in the Fall.”
“Congratulations!” he sounded truly excited for her. “What major?”
“Music and business. I’m planning on being a music manager when I finish.” Or at least she was until everything with Julie’s band went to shit, but for sure this guy wasn’t interested in that.
They fell into a relaxed conversation after that. Talking with him was surprisingly easy, considering he was probably a year younger than she was and she didn’t even know his name. He was brimming with curiosity and wanted to know everything about her: her family, her friends and her life in LA. She was genuinely sorry when the sign for Cradle Lake came into view.
It was weird. One minute she was driving along the empty, dark highway, and the next there were streetlamps, other cars, and strip malls like any other town. The man visibly stiffened as they went past the well-lit sign with the town’s crest, proclaiming “Welcome to Cradle Lake!” in bright blue letters.
“Anyone tell you the story why it’s called ‘Cradle Lake’?” he asked.
Flynn shook her head. “I barely got directions on how to find it!”
He chuffed out a small laugh. “Did you want to know?”
There was a strange tone in his voice: a tightness that made Flynn think this wasn’t a good story. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Why? Won’t I like it?”
He turned to look at her, his green eyes shadowed between the intermittent street lights. “It depends. Do you like ghost stories?”
A shiver went down Flynn’s spine. She focused on the road so she wouldn’t have to look at the way the darkness hid his face. “Ghosts aren’t real.”
He gave the same small laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.” But he let the conversation go.
Silence fell over them again, only this time it felt heavy. Her skin was dotted with goosebumps and her heart was sitting high in her throat. Maybe it was because it was a literal dark and stormy night, but for some reason, his casual comment about ghosts being real had gotten to her. Flynn turned on the radio, hoping there was a station somewhere in Cradle Lake and that music would help lighten the mood.
A melodic tune came on and the atmosphere in the car changed to something easier. His lips curved up. “I love this song.”
Flynn listened. It sounded familiar, but she wasn’t sure she could place it. “What song is it?”
“It’s called ‘Your Ghost’,” he said, which was uncomfortably on point, given their conversation. Then he began singing along:
“If I walk down this hallway, tonight it’s too quiet.
So I pad through the dark and I call you on the phone.
Push your old numbers and let your house ring.
’Til I wake your ghost...“
He had a beautiful voice. Sweet, but with a slight edge that made it perfect for the melancholy love song. She turned her head to watch him for a moment. He’d closed his eyes, his head weaving with the melody. The light from the streetlamps drifted across him, highlighting the delicate lines of his face. Her heart thudded, only now it was from attraction. She pulled her eyes away to focus back on the road.
“It sounds retro,” Flynn said. “When did it come out? Early two-thousands?”
“Nope. Barely two years ago.” He laughed and shook his head. “Early two-thousands. That’s funny.”
“Excuse me for not being a pop music expert,” Flynn said, a bit miffed. “I like a lot of alt music, okay?”
“Hey, it’s fine,” he said, still grinning. “I like your sense of humour, is all.”
“Oh,” she said, instantly mollified by the way he was smiling at her. She smiled back, giving herself a second to get lost in his eyes.
He pointed at the windshield. “Turn right here.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Flynn was glad he’d said something. She was so distracted by him she’d nearly missed the turn.
Moore Avenue was a couple streets back from main street. It was full of small, detached houses built around the second world war. Flynn had never seen houses this small, and her first thought was how cute they looked and how the streetlamps gave the street a soft, yellow glow, making it feel homey and welcome. She was suddenly very glad she’d come.
“What number?” she asked as she slowed to a crawl going up their street.
“Anywhere is fine,” he said quickly. “In fact, it’s probably better if you just let me off now. I’ll get in trouble if my dad sees I got a ride.” He turned to look out the window, as if worried he’d see his father coming down the street.
Flynn wanted to ask why. Most parents would’ve been happy their child had a safe drive home in a rainstorm. But once again she held her tongue. His family issues weren’t any of her concern. She pulled the car over to the sidewalk and stopped. “Is here okay?”
He looked out the window. “Here’s fine.”
“Okay,” Flynn said on a sigh. She was tired from her long drive, and nervous about meeting Victoria for the first time, but she really didn’t want to leave the bubble of the car and have this boy step out of her life. She knew Cradle Lake was a small town, but that didn’t mean she’d see him again. “Hey, what’s your na—”
He turned towards her, and the rest of the question died on her lips.
There was a rivulet of blood flowing slowly from his hairline down the left side of his face. She watched, stunned, as it rolled off his eyebrow and down his cheek: a thin line at first, but it thickened until half his face was coated. It dripped off his chin onto his white shirt. The stain looked black in the low light.
Her brain froze watching it. She knew he hadn’t been injured like that when he got into the car. She would’ve noticed an entire river of blood on his face. Her heart hammered against her ribs, pounding in fear. What had happened to him?
Between one heartbeat and the next, the blood disappeared.
He was looking at her intently. “Are you okay?”
Flynn blinked, then blinked again, but he was still the same young man she’d picked up: wet, pale and not looking like the lead from the movie Carrie. She shuddered, then forced herself to smile. “I’m fine,” she said. “Probably just need some sleep.” People hallucinated when they were tired, right? She was sure she’d heard that somewhere.
He grinned back, so handsome it almost hurt. “It is pretty late,” he agreed. Then his expression went shy. “Thanks for the ride. I hope I’ll see you again?”
“I hope so,” Flynn said. She waited a beat to see if he’d ask for her number, or even her name, but he just gave her another shy smile and got out of the car. She sighed as she watched him walk away under the light of the streetlamps, shoulders hunched against the rain. She’d missed her window to get his details and she was already kicking herself for it. But they were going to live on the same street for the next couple of months. Maybe they’d run into each other again?
But hopefully not in the pouring rain when he only had that useless leather jacket.
“His jacket!” Flynn cried, scrabbling to grab it off the back seat. She bolted out of the car, his jacket in hand. It was heavy and still damp from the rain. “Hey!” she called as she ran around the car. He’d only gone a few feet up the street, she could probably catch him.
She looked in the direction he’d been heading, then down the street, then stopped dead in her tracks.
He was gone.
The key was under the third rock from the left, just as Victoria had said it would be.
Flynn went into the house and locked the door behind her. The space was deeply shadowed; the only light coming from the one streetlamp outside. She searched along the wall and found the light switch, then sighed in relief when it turned on.
The front door led to a small ante-room which then opened up into the living room off to the left and the kitchen to the right, with a short staircase in front leading to the bedrooms on the second floor. Flynn stood her suitcase upright on the tiled floor and hung up the boy’s jacket. She stroked her hand down the leather, then laughed at herself for being so maudlin. Either she’d see him again or she wouldn’t. Mooning over him wasn’t going to change anything.
She kicked off her shoes and went into the kitchen, turning the lights on as she went. The house was definitely cozy but there was a chill in the air. That, plus the rain pattering on the windows, made her feel very alone.
There was a note propped up against the fruit bowl on the counter:
Hola Flynn! Sorry I’m not here to meet you. I work the late shift at the diner, so I usually get home around five a.m. There are some empanadas in the fridge and also pie. Help yourself! Don’t wait up for me and I’ll see you around eleven tomorrow morning. Xox Victoria.
Flynn smiled at the cheery note. Victoria might own the diner, but she felt it was her responsibility to work the late shifts to save her employees from having to do it. Flynn wasn’t sure what shifts she’d be working, but most likely Victoria would tell her in the morning when they actually met.
She ate three empanadas and a healthy slice of the coconut cream pie before heading upstairs with her suitcase. There were four rooms on the upper floor, and Flynn suddenly realized she had no idea which one was meant to be hers. The first door across from the stairs was the bathroom, which left two rooms to the right, and one to the left. She chose left, and opened the door to what was clearly Victoria’s study. That narrowed it down.
Flynn opened the first door to the right. It was a small bedroom, decorated in bright colours that reminded Flynn of Julie’s childhood bedroom and made her miss her terribly. But it didn’t look lived in, so it was easy to assume this was the guest bedroom Victoria had made up for her. Flynn went in, dragging her suitcase, and shut the door behind her.
The room was homey and comfortable, with plenty of plugs for her phone and her laptop to charge. It had a huge closet and a chest of drawers, and there was even a clock radio on the bedside table which showed the time in big, red numbers when Flynn turned it on. It was set to a local station and the DJ’s excited voice made her smile.
She changed into her pajamas and found her toiletries and her hair wrap and went to the bathroom. Flynn brushed her teeth, smiling at her reflection, enjoying the way her natural curls landed softly against her shoulders. She’d removed her braids as soon as she’d decided on the trip to Idaho, not wanting to have to deal with them in a small town. She looked tired, though. It’d taken her over fourteen hours to get there and her body was stiff from sitting in a car for so long with very few stops. She gazed longingly at the tub, but decided sleep was more important.
She left the hallway light on for Victoria, but the small glow creeping under the doorway felt reassuring rather than annoying. She got into bed and closed her eyes, feeling warm and content. She fell asleep to the sound of the rain.
She was woken by the sound of footsteps in the hallway.
It took her a moment to reorientate herself and remember she was in a small town in Idaho and not in the sprawling city of LA. She lay on her back, listening to the footsteps as they continued down the hallway. They sounded light, like whoever was walking was trying hard not to wake her. It had to be Victoria heading to her room. Flynn rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.
The door to her room creaked open.
Flynn shot up, eyes searching the darkness. She’d distinctly remembered leaving the hallway light on, but now everything was pitch black. She couldn’t see anything.
But she could still hear. And she could definitely hear the sound of someone creeping slowly towards her bed.
“Victoria?” Flynn called, voice cracking with fear. “Is that you?”
There was no reassuring answer from the darkness, but the footsteps stopped. Flynn sat in tense silence, her ears straining to hear anything beyond the pounding of her heart. The clock radio showed 3 a.m. She fumbled for her phone where she’d left it on the bedside table and scrabbled at the screen until she was finally able to turn on the flashlight. She aimed it around the small room, trying to find the source of the sound.
There was nothing there.
“Hello?” Flynn called, peering into the darkness beyond the reach of her phone’s light. “Who’s there?”
Something moved at the edge of the light. She whipped her phone towards it, heart pounding. But the beam caught nothing.
“It’s just your eyes,” Flynn whispered to herself. It was late, and very dark and she was in an unfamiliar place. She probably had been woken up by Victoria, who’d turned off the light when she went to bed. She probably just hadn’t closed the door properly and it’d swung open.
Flynn let out a dry laugh. She was scaring herself for no reason when all she really needed was sleep.
Still, that didn’t stop her from using her flashlight to find the switch for the lamp on her bedside table and turning it on. The room was immediately bathed in warm, orange light, turning it from something terrifying to something welcoming, and Flynn sighed in relief. She turned off her phone’s flashlight and put it back on the table before lying down and pulling the covers up to her ears. The room was chilly, considering it was July. She’d have to remember to ask Victoria to turn down the air conditioner in the morning.
Flynn glanced towards the door, still standing open. She debated getting up to close it, but the idea of it creaking open again wasn’t great. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was going to come in.
She snuggled into the pillow and closed her eyes, ready to once again surrender to sleep.
There was the faint, but unmistakable sound of a child crying.
Flynn’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, looking for the source of the sound. Her room was as still as before, and just as cool. She shivered as she got out of bed to close the windows. She didn’t remember them being open, and it’d be strange considering the air conditioning was on, but she also hadn’t checked. The windows were securely shut, and Flynn stared at them, puzzled.
She could still hear the child, like it was crying in the next room.
Flynn licked her lips, debating going into the dark hallway to find the source of the sound, but the idea was distinctly unappealing. She crawled back into the bed instead, covering her ears in a vain attempt to drown out the noise.
Was she hallucinating? She thought she’d heard people could hallucinate all sorts of weird stuff when they were exhausted. She hadn’t been sleeping much since everything had happened with Carrie. Maybe her exhaustion had finally caught up with her? It’d certainly explain the blood she’d seen on the boy’s face, as well as the sound of the invisible person creeping through her room. “I need to sleep,” she muttered at herself, annoyed for not being able to just get her brain to shut off. “Could you maybe hold off the crying ‘til the morning?”
The sound stopped.
Flynn held herself still, listening. But there was no more noise, or strange movements out of the corner of her eye.
Flynn sighed contentedly and went back to sleep.