Beau Miller was eighteen, a senior at Maple Hollow High, and the kind of kid teachers liked. He had good grades, a clean record, and hair that always seemed to stay neat, even when he ran his hands through it. He had already been accepted into college. A good one. Full ride. His future was the kind people talked about with soft voices and pride in their eyes.

  He was not like his friends. Not really.

  His parents were solid folk. His mom, Linda Miller, baked too many cookies and cried too easily. She smelled like vanilla and laundry sheets and hugged like it was a sport. His dad, Roy Miller, was a quiet man with strong hands and darker eyes. He worked maintenance at the grain silos, came home tired, and drank his coffee black.

  Beau's friends were another story.

  Trey was a linebacker with a beer in one hand and his tongue in someone’s mouth half the time. He laughed loud and lived fast. He smoked whatever you gave him, and he claimed he had banged half the cheer squad. Maybe he had.

  Denny was quieter. A scrawny stoner with shaggy hair and a switchblade he liked to flip open and shut when he was bored. He had a thing for blades and bad horror movies. He was dating Kayla.

  Kayla was Cassie’s best friend. Punk-rock attitude, ripped tights, and hair dyed fire-engine red that week. Always filming on that old camcorder she carried everywhere. She said she wanted to be a documentarian. She hated cops, her dad, and probably herself, though she would never say that out loud.

  Then there was Cassie Juno. Brash. Beautiful. The kind of girl you saw once and remembered forever. Blonde hair that always looked tousled just right, lips like trouble, and eyes that dared you to look too long. She climbed out of windows, snuck into bars with a fake ID, and got into trouble just for fun. Cassie had a mouth that could kiss you breathless or cut you down to size in the same sentence. The girl of Beau's dreams.

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  That night, they were all behind the abandoned church on Ridge Road. A rusted-out fire barrel crackled in the dark. Trey passed around a bottle of Jack. Kayla filmed them with that little camcorder, saying it was going to be her masterpiece. Denny lit a joint and offered it to Beau, who waved it off with a nervous laugh.

  Cassie blew smoke in Beau’s face and teased, “C’mon, college boy. Loosen up. You’re gonna miss us when you’re off writing papers and jerking off in a dorm room.”

  Beau smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. The night air felt heavy. The woods behind the church loomed black and still. He could not shake the feeling something was watching them.

  That was when Sheriff Ellis Brandt showed up.

  The flashlight hit them first, then the voice. Gravelly. Old tobacco rasp.

  “You kids better have a damn good reason for being here.”

  Trey just smirked. “Evenin’, Sheriff.”

  Brandt stepped closer. His hat was too big and his face too red. He looked like he had been carved out of beef jerky and sour coffee. His hand hovered near his belt, just enough to make Beau tense up.

  “Stay outta the woods,” Brandt growled. “Nothing but death and devils up there.”

  Kayla cackled. “Oooo, spooky. Gonna write us a ticket, piggy?”

  Before anyone could stop her, she yanked her shirt up, flashed a single bare breast, and said, “Bet that’s the best tit you’ve seen in twenty years. Wanna cuff me, officer?”

  Brandt’s face turned a darker shade of red. He glared at them for a moment longer, then spat in the dirt and turned away.

  “You’re not kids anymore,” he said as he walked back to his cruiser. “Act like it.”

  When he was gone, Kayla doubled over laughing. “That old perv’s gonna jerk off to that tonight. Bet on it.”

  Cassie howled. Trey lit another cigarette. Denny pulled Kayla into his lap and kissed her neck.

  Beau stayed silent. The bottle came back around, and someone told him to drink. He did. It burned. He coughed and laughed along with the rest of them, but his hands were shaking.

  He looked toward the trees. The wind had picked up. The branches swayed. The woods whispered.

  They always whispered.

  Graduation was six weeks away. His bags were packed in his mind. But he would still be here, for now. Just one more party. Just one more night in the dark with people who thought they were invincible.