Holiday frowned. "We all have to learn lessons the hard way, don't we?"
"I guess so," Kylie said, not sure it could get any harder. "I'm just not ready to deal with my dad ... stepdad ... or with what I'm feeling about Derek. Is it too much to ask to just be given a reprieve?"
"No, it isn't too much to ask. But generally speaking, the longer you put off dealing with something, the harder it is to solve. Sometimes, you just have to face things head-on. My dad used to say that you should look trouble right in the face and spit in its eye."
"I never mastered the art of spitting," Kylie said.
Holiday smiled then glanced at the mail again. Sighing, she raised her gaze. "Do you want to avoid this as well?" She pushed a letter across the desk.
"What?" Kylie stared at the envelope and saw her name scribbled in a familiar script.
Lucas's script. He had written her another letter.
Chapter Eight
A part of Kylie wanted to push the letter back across the desk. Hadn't she promised to get over him? She knew Holiday wouldn't force her to take it.
Didn't Kylie have enough on her plate right now? Why willingly take on more crap?
Holiday pulled the letter back to her side of the desk.
Looking up at Holiday, Kylie expected to see some disapproval in the camp leader's eyes because, once again, Kylie wasn't so eager to confront her problems head-on. But all she saw in Holiday's expression was empathy.
"I'm not sure I want to read it," Kylie confessed.
"Why?" Holiday asked.
"He ran off with another girl."
"I don't think he thinks of Fredericka as-"
"But she thinks of him like that. And if she throws herself at him ... well, he's a guy."
"I know," Holiday said. "However, not all guys-"
"But some are. And telling the difference is like math-it's hard. You think you understand it and then you get the answer wrong. And don't even try to disagree because it's the reason you won't give Burnett a shot."
Holiday dropped her chin back into her palm and didn't argue with Kylie's assessment. After several beats of silence, she said, "I could just stick it back in a drawer and if you decide you want to read it later, you can."
Yes, Holiday could do that, but could Kylie? Could she really walk out of here and not take that letter with her? Could she pretend that she didn't care about Lucas? That she hadn't worried about him since he'd left-worried about what it was that he couldn't tell her, and worried that some of what he couldn't tell her involved Fredericka?
Oh, and if she still cared about Lucas, what did she really feel about Derek? Or was her feeling about Derek even her own feeling, or was he messing with her emotions?
Oh, hell. Could her life get any more messed up?
Might as well take the letter and let the chips fall where they may. Kylie reached out and pulled the letter out from under Holiday's palm. After staring at it for a few seconds, Kylie folded it and stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans. Later, alone, when she felt like spitting that problem in the eye, she'd deal with it.
When she looked up, Holiday nodded as if somehow telling Kylie she'd done the right thing. Not that Kylie was sure about that. Very little in life felt like a sure thing right now.
The room went back to the awkward kind of silence and Holiday shifted to another subject that was just as disturbing. "Has the ghost given you anything new?"
"New, yes. Helpful, no." Kylie frowned and wished she could avoid this problem like she did her stepdad and Derek. But the violence and the threat issued by the ghost didn't leave Kylie any option. "I think she was tortured by her abductors."
"Ouch," Holiday said. "And you really think this happened, or do you think it's just her trying to communicate something to you?"
"I think it happened." Kylie bit down on her lip, her thoughts going to the warning that this would happen to someone she loved if she couldn't stop it. "It felt too real, sort of like the dream I had where Daniel got shot.
I was her in the dream. And they were coming at me with weird knives. I felt drugged and when I tried to fight back they tied me down."
Remembering the terror, Kylie felt her heart rate quicken. Panic once again started building in her chest.
Holiday reached over and touched Kylie's hand. Her touch sent calming warmth up Kylie's arm. The fear collecting in Kylie's heart ran away like scared mice. And just like that, the panic faded into something less overwhelming.
Kylie looked up at the camp leader. "Thanks, but that's not going to fix anything. It's like a Band-Aid on a bullet wound."
"I know." Holiday frowned. "But when all you have to offer someone is a comforting touch, you want to offer it."
Kylie released a deep breath. "What's going to happen if I don't figure this out?"
Holiday's hand, resting on Kylie's wrist, grew warmer as if she sensed Kylie would need another shot of calm. "You accept that you did everything you could in your power to try to stop it and move on."
The enormity of exactly what Holiday was saying, coupled with the responsibility that rested on Kylie's shoulders, suddenly felt like too much.
Kylie jerked her hand from under Holiday's palm. "No. I couldn't ... I couldn't live with myself. I mean, if I understand this right, someone is going to die. Actually die and it's not going to be an easy death, either."
All the problems in Kylie's life started bouncing around her head like ping-pong balls. Tears filled her eyes. It still hurt to think about her grandmother's funeral-she couldn't lose someone else. "Failure isn't an option."
Kylie's mind started racing, trying to figure out who she loved that could be in danger. Was it her mom? Was it someone from back home?
Someone here at camp? It could even be Holiday. Oh lord, what if it was Lucas or Derek? She glanced at the door and fought the overwhelming desire to leave.
Holiday cleared her throat. "As much as we don't ever want to fail, our gift isn't a guarantee that we can help everyone. Sometimes we have to accept that we can't fix things."
Kylie shook her head. "You might be able to accept that, but I can't."
She bit down on her lip until it hurt. "I should have refused this gift. I can't do it. I should have sent it back with a big note that said thanks, but hell no." The knot grew larger in her throat, crowding out her tonsils. "Is it too late to refuse it now?"