Page 38 of The Enemy Plot
My voice is far from a professional singer’s. Well, maybe one that’s being strangled. A flock of birds take flight from a nearby tree in a whoosh, and I feel kind of bad for breaking their peaceful night.
Finally, yawns overwhelm the conversation, and we decide to call it a night. The moment I’ve been dreading, but also eagerly anticipating—sharing a tent with Alice.
After Lola and Alice go into the woods for a bathroom break, we say goodnight, and I let Alice get changed in the tent before I go in. I can’t tell what she’s wearing, since she’s already wrapped in the sleeping bag I brought for her. But somehow, she looks even cuter like that. I never thought that would be possible, or that I’d find “cute” attractive.
I shake the thoughts out of my head. “Comfortable?”
She nods. “Yeah. It’s not that bad.”
The tent is pretty small, but we both fit comfortably on our backs. I lie down next to her, crawling into my own sleeping bag. “You’re not cold? ‘Cause I have a spare sweatshirt you can borrow.”
“I’m good. This sleeping bag is really warm.”
“Great,” I say, swallowing hard. This is more awkward than I thought it would be.
“Well, good night,” Alice says, and I nod even though she can’t see me.
“Good night.”
I close my eyes, trying to fall asleep, but my heartbeat is thrumming in my ears. I won’t get one minute of sleep tonight. I just know it. Between Alice lying next to me, and the fact that we’re in the middle of the woods, my senses are on high alert.
“Argh!” Alice shouts, sitting up and hitting my torso like a maniac. “There’s something on me!”
I grab my phone from beside me and switch on the flashlight. She looks frantic, her hair disheveled and her eyes crazed, like the time she called me to kill that poor spider.
“Please tell me it’s not a spider.” She bends her head so I can check her hair.
I press my lips to suppress my smile as I look for the culprit. “It’s a leaf.” I grab it and show it to her.
“Oh,” she exhales, a hand on her chest and a smile forming on her lips. “Thank you.”
“You really don’t like the outdoors, do you?” I ask, lying back down.
She does the same and lets out a small giggle. “Is it that obvious?”
My lips tilt into a smile. “Just a little.”
As her laughter dies down, she sighs. “Not a big fan, I’ll admit. I’m just a simple person who enjoys long walks down bookstore aisles, not in the forest.”
Now I’m the one who laughs. “Is that on one of your brooches?”
“No, but it should be,” she says with a chuckle.
“Thank you for coming, though. It means a lot.”
“Sure. Lola is a good kid, and I know all too well the struggle of losing a mother . . .”
“Oh?” I ask, my throat constricting. Alice is such a happy person, smiling and laughing all the time. It’s hard to imagine she’s known trauma or death. Especially the trauma of losing a parent.
“My mom died when I was eight. She was the sweetest person, and I wish I’d had more time with her. Our dad raised us well, and I love him, but a girl needs a woman to look up to. My dad eventually got remarried to Yvette, who’s the best stepmom anyone could hope for, but I was seventeen by then.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, though my words come out as a grumble. I’ve never been good at expressing my sympathy. Besides, I know my words won’t change anything.
“Thank you.” I hear her shift. “Living in the US makes me feel close to her again. She was American,” she explains before I can ask. “My brother and I were born here, and we all lived in Philly until we moved to France for my dad’s work. Then, my mom got sick. So in a way, I am French,” she says, and I can almost picture her faint smile, “but also American.”
Only Alice can smile while reliving her loss, and that makes my heart twist, clench, and run a whole marathon in my chest.
“Where in France did you live?” I ask, wanting to know everything about Alice.