“What the hell?” He spoke through strained breaths, his finger like an arrow to my chest.

“Don’t blow this out of proportion, Rhys, I just made a mistake.”

“A mistake? That's what you think this is.” He spun me around to the cabin door, where the limp body lay.

“We can take him to the lake, nobody will notice-” I start to think out loud.

“We? I can't even look at you. Who even are you? Because you’re not the girl I met at orientation.”

That one stung. My fingernail dug deeper into my wrist.

“Look, you don't have to stay here.”

He scoffs. “Great, when the cops take me in for questioning I'll be sure to let them know I was uninvited from the crime scene.”

“They won't, okay? I'm going to deal with this.” I sigh, “Just trust me.”

“Yeah…Finding that pretty difficult.”

“He-” I paused, struggling for the right words. “He didn't not deserve it.”

Okay, so I could have found better words.

“My apologies, I didn't realize you were fucking God.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I think…or say, definitely not in that order.

I try again, “It's an hour past curfew, just get out of here, you don't need to be involved.”

“It's a little late for that isn't it.”

“I'm sorry, okay? This wasn't exactly on my summer bucket list either.” I throw up my hands.

Rhys starts pacing, noticeably avoiding the corpse-side of the room.

“What the hell happened anyway, last time I checked you and Wes were avoiding each other.”

“Yeah well, he didn't like that…Two beers later he's banging on my door like it's the fucking rapture and holding something weapon-like.”

“Weapon-like? A gun? A knife?” He probes.

“I don't know it was dark…by the time he got inside his hands were empty.”

“But you're sure he had a weapon?”

“Sure? Last week I was sure that Wes Tomlin was out of my league, and not a raging sociopath, so no I'm not really sure about anything right now.”

I’m too out of breath to yell so my speech has evolved into violent whispering.

“Okay…Okay, you should just call the cops, he was drunk, angry…it was self-defense.”

He sounds more like he's talking himself into something than me.

“Great idea, except I killed a seemingly weaponless eighteen-year-old scholarship magnet and not Ted Bundy.”

He stays silent for a few seconds, before looking me in the eyes.

“You mentioned…the lake?”