Dream Catcher (Woodland Creek)

“There was.” Reagan glanced at Jase’s red face. Sighing, I played with the bottle cap between my fingers.

“You fucking kissed her, didn’t you?” Interrogating me instead, Jase ignored his sock on the door blunder. I shrugged, letting him stew.

“Oh my God, look at him. He’s practically glowing with it.” Reagan snickered.

“Yeah, and it was glorious. Nothing like chicken.” Laughing and waiting for it, Reagan pelted me with her empty plastic water bottle, eyes now rolling and disgusted over my rare display of chauvinism.

“Asshole.” Muttering, Reagan’s face contorted from the smile, giving me a disapproving look.

“Oh, come on. If anyone tasted close to chicken it would be you.” Now Jase looked pissed and Reagan got ready to jump off the counter and hit me with something else. I was glad the silverware was out of reach in the drawer behind me.

“WHAT?” Screeching Reagan was almost worse than her hitting me. Years ago as kids, we played spin the bottle. Reagan and I shared our first kiss together as teens. It was an awful experience, neither of us having a clue what to do the very first time. I was sure Jase had taught her a few things since then. All I could remember was how nervous we were and how she nearly pecked my face off with her quick and jumpy movements. Over the years when it was randomly brought up, Jase got crazy jealous the game played out that way. He ended up kissing some other girl, thus starting the green-eyed tit for tat between him and Reagan that lasted for years until now.

“Dude. I should let her eat you alive.” Jase held back a squirming and pissed off Reagan.

Teasing them was fun because I knew they’d get over it. Deciding to share my idea for the evening with them, I felt certain it was a great idea. “Yes, but then how would we get to the bonfire up at the cliffs tonight?”

“Ooh! So now that you’ve gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit you’re going to want more.” Shrugging, I knew that my truck was probably the best vehicle for us to take up there instead of Reagan’s midget car, Jase’s Pontiac GrandAm, or Kerri’s clunker.

“Exactly.” I tipped my drink of water in their direction, nodding.

“Bonfire it is.” Jase put Reagan down, who rushed to punch me in the arm as expected, stinging the muscles.

“Dick,” she muttered, walking away.

Chapter Eleven

“If you run from a wolf, you may run into a bear.” Lithuanian Proverb

KERRI

“I am so excited we’re finally going to go hang out at the cliffs tonight.” Reagan jumped up and down, fluttering around our room. She pulled out a scarf from her closet, wrapping it around my neck artfully in a looping knot.

“So, what exactly are these cliffs we’re going to?” I stared at myself in the mirror, hoping I was wearing the right outfit. Another pair of dark skinny jeans, tall boots with a loose blouse tucked in with my belt. Warren reminded me to bring a jacket because it was going to be windy and cold tonight, the temperatures dropping after sundown. I grabbed a fuzzy bright red zip-up North Face jacket that wouldn’t make me look like a puffy marshmallow in a parka. It was a bit early to drag out the big coat and Reagan convinced me I looked fine since my ass was all curvy in those jeans. She definitely had a way with words and fashion.

“It’s actually called the Fool’s Gold Cliff Recreational area.”

“Sounds like a mouthful.” Musing, I adjusted the scarf around my ne

ck, wondering what this place was.

“Hey, leave my work untouched, missy.” Reagan swatted my hands away and fixed the scarf again. “Think big cliff with cool rocks and shit.”

“Oh, that’s descriptive, Reagan.” Reagan was a good roommate to have when she wasn’t tormenting me with half sentences and explanations.

With her signature expression of rolling her eyes, she continued. “Calm your tits, Kerri. The boys will get a campfire going and we’ll all snuggle up and hang out. Warren loves going there.” She turned away from me to left me hanging with that tidbit on purpose.

Frustration with her made me groan. “Really?” That I found to be intriguing, yet another cool detail about him that I wanted to soak up. I got so few of those between Reagan and Jase. Warren was pretty tight-lipped about himself, but he usually made me spill little details about myself and my life back home, listening to me aptly.

“Well…there have also been rumors about the cliffs my entire life.” Reagan’s eyes darted between me and the mirror while she layered on more eye makeup. We were going to a campfire and she consumed eye shadow like it was feast or famine, layering on smoky eyes that made her dark orbs pop. “Warren says there were a few…” Her mouth made an “O” shape as she layered a swipe of eyeliner on. “Native American ceremonies there about two hundred years ago. All sorts of things have happened up there over the years.” An involuntary shudder coursed through me, thinking about old town urban legends for some strange reason. It’s all fake, right?

“Awww, don’t look so worried, Kerri. Warren and Jase will be there with us. What could possibly happen?” Right…what could happen? It was all in my head and I tried to let it go so I could calm the butterflies in my stomach.

“Hmm.”

“His dad is actually from one of the old tribes that used to populate the area back in the day. He’s gorgeous for an old dude. Think like a young chisel faced Daniel Day-Lewis with long hair in his heyday.” Reagan poked me and went back to applying her makeup, leaving me to think on that, interrupting my thoughts again. “Warren’s dad rocks the man bun.” I wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“Isn’t he like in his sixties now? The actor, I mean.” I tried thinking of a movie I’d seen him in recently, but nothing came to mind.