Hillary
I lay on the floater, swinging my legs in the water as I stare up at the starless sky. It’s midnight or something close, and I can’t sleep. That’s what happens when you spend the day napping for over six hours. My skin still crawls from the embarrassment too.
Headphones on, playlist blasting at full volume, I lean back and let the cold night air sink into me. My eyes shut, my body relaxes—until a huge splash drenches me. It feels like the moon just dropped into Bentley’s pool.
My eyes snap open. I yank off my headphones, heart nearly ripping out of my chest when I see Ben’s murder cat’s head floating in the water. Without thinking, I slip off the floater and panic toward the opposite exit of the pool.
Those things can swim?
I scramble up the stairs, nearly breaking my neck in
