The Summer of 98

The summer of 98 remains unforgettable in St. Peter's, a small town near Isle Madame, where my friends and I graduated from Richmond High. As we parted ways, Mark and I headed to Toronto to pursue our dreams of becoming writers. At the same time, David and Leanne, the high school sweethearts, planned to attend Dalhousie University in Halifax and get married the following year.

 We arranged a brief trip to Port Hood Beach for Canada Day weekend. Mark's father's fishing boat was docked there, and we intended to sail it to Bear Island, marking the end of our adolescence. I recalled the drive up there in Mark’s old pickup truck, sitting on its thinly padded seats. The noise from his truck escalated as it picked up speed, clinking beer bottles.

We stopped at a gas station while Mark refilled the tank. I could hear lips smacking as the two lovebirds played tonsil hockey in the back seat. I cringed as I turned my torso towards them.

“Can you two cut that out? It’s grossing me out.”  

David responded, rolling his eyes at me.

“Yeah, and what is that?" I asked. We exchanged cold stares, listening to the wind blowing through the trees near the gas station. His voice grew deeper as he answered. 

“You're only jealous of the love we have, but you wouldn’t see it because the only person you've loved doesn’t love you back in that way.”

Leanne's face twisted in disgust as she swatted his shoulder.

“Babe, I told you that in confidence.”  

He replied, speaking louder.

 “What? It's obvious she's loved Mark since first grade, and now she's planning to move to Toronto to be with him.”  

David laughed and went back to kissing Leanne. I looked away and focused on the highway stretching toward the horizon. Twenty-eight years later, I still remember the sound of that laugh. No one spoke, just the pickup truck shifting gears as we drove along the open highway. I stared out the window as the wind blew through my hair. Mark noticed the tension and spoke up. 

“What happened earlier while I was fueling up? Did you guys argue?”

 Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him scowling at me, as if looking right through me. Then, he responded with sarcasm. 

“I believe it’s best to ask Emily about that.”

I pressed my lips together tightly, my cold, intense gaze fixed on the open road ahead. My jaw tightened. David kept talking, unaware that my fingernails were digging into my palms. Tiny half-moons appeared in my skin. Mark snapped his fingers near my ear, breaking my concentration, and repeated his question.

“Emily, can you tell me why you all are not speaking to each other?”

My eyes widened as I began to giggle; I couldn’t control it, almost as if it was a way to hide my aggression towards David. Mark repeated himself once more.

“Emily, are you okay?”

"Yes, I’m fine, and it wasn’t anything serious; we just had two different opinions on politics.”

David looked downward, shut his eyes, and furrowed his brow. Mark responded.

“Yeah, like, what exactly?”

 David smirked and said to me sarcastically.

“Like what exactly, Emily?”

“Just some boring political topics. Nothing that would grab your attention," I replied. Mark started to shake his head and responded.

“Fine, whatever. Don’t tell me then.”

It was late in the evening, and our journey continued. The two lovers slept quietly, while Mark and I stayed awake. Mark kept yawning from the driver's seat, and I kept nudging him to stay alert. Eventually, it was obvious that continuing was unsafe. Mark woke them both and spoke.

“Hey, I’m stopping here in these woods for the night so we can all rest properly. We'll head to Port Hood first thing in the morning.”

We all nodded in agreement as we arrived at a patch of gravelly ground surrounded by trees. The aroma of pine needles lingered in the air, while crickets chirped in the background. All around. It was driving Leanne crazy, speaking in a tense tone. She replied.  

"Can you please close the windows? I’m trying to sleep, for heaven's sake.”

I rolled up the windows, crossing and uncrossing my legs. Mark noticed and responded. 

“Is everything alright with you, Emily?”  

“Yeah, everything's fine; I just need to use the bathroom,” I said. Leanne offered to accompany me, but I shook my head slightly and responded,

“No, that's fine; I can handle it alone. It will only take a few minutes at most.” 

Mark's eyes widened in surprise as he responded. 

“It’s unsafe to be in the woods right now. I’ll go alone while you all remain in the truck.”

“No, I’m fine; trust me. Besides, I'll just be right over there," I said, gesturing toward the two pine trees across the way as Mark raised his eyebrows and replied.

"Okay, but if you're not back within 10 minutes, we'll go out there to fine you.”

I smiled at him before shutting the passenger door and quickly headed toward the two pine trees. I was confident they wouldn’t come looking for me, especially Mark, who was so exhausted he kept rubbing his face to stay awake. They all soon drifted off to sleep within a minute.  

Mark woke up first, gasping for air and feeling anxious. His eyes widened as he looked at the back seat, noticing his two friends who seemed to be still asleep—or so he thought. Despite shaking them, they didn’t wake up. He checked their pulses and found none. His face flushed with panic as he leaned back, feeling nauseous and trying to control his breathing by sniffing deeply. Suddenly, he realized with horror that all three were breathing in carbon monoxide.  

He leaped out of the pickup truck and gently took hold of both items from the back seat, placing them softly on the dirt and gravel. He continued coughing, with veins bulging in his neck. Noticing Emily was missing, he yelled out for her.

“Emily! Emily! Emily!”

 He shouted for her again.

"Emily! Where the hell are you?"

 He began walking toward the two pine trees where he'd last seen her. As he approached, he found her unconscious with blood running down her forehead. He shook her hand to wake her, calling out her name.

"Wake up, Emily. It's me, Mark. Are you hurt?"

A groan escaped my lips as I blinked, gradually bringing my eyes into focus on him before I responded clearly. 

“Hey, you found me, my knight in shining armour."

“Are you alright? Do you recall what happened?” he asked. I furrowed my brows and responded.

“No, all I remember is squatting down while I was peeing, and then I suddenly lost consciousness." 

"We need to get help now. David and Leanne are dead, and I believe the killer is still in these woods. We have to move immediately."  

I bulged my eyes, jerked my head back, and spoke. 

“Wait, how did that happen?" 

“We don’t have time to explain this; we’ve got to go.”

We ran south of the woods together until we reached the highway, but it appears we got lost, as he hurriedly ran his hand through his hair and muttered to himself nervously. 

“Where the hell are we? “ 

“We’re not lost; just continue in that direction, and we'll be on the highway soon,” I said,  

Mark rubbed his face with his palm, let out a heavy sigh, and then responded.  

“Yeah, and how do you know that, Emily?”

 I approached him, tilting my head back with a flirtatious tone.

“I orchestrated everything, including killing David and Leanne so that we could be together. Throughout, these barriers kept us apart, but now I see they were just walls blocking our love.” 

Mark stepped back cautiously, stumbling over his words before responding.

“You are a fucking sociopath, Emily. Do you realize what you just did? You killed two of our closest friends over a little crush you have.”  

He placed his hands on his head as his body swayed, speechless and unsure of what to say. The only thing he could manage was a single word.

“You’re a monster."  

“I’m not a monster, Mark. I love you and will do whatever it takes to be with you,” I said. He looked at me and replied.

“Stay away from me, and when I get into town, I’m calling the police.”  

He started to walk away, and I felt an intense sense of betrayal unlike anything before. A sudden surge took over my body; I couldn't control my temperature, and the veins in my neck twitched wildly. Perhaps he was right—I was a monster. In a frenzy, I pulled out my pocketknife and lunged at him, stabbing his neck repeatedly while yelling.

“We were supposed to run away together. You bastard! I love you, and you broke my heart! You fucking asshole!!”

 I saw him bleed to death; his blood splattered on me. I stared at him for a moment before leaving him to decay. Then I went to the truck to retrieve my belongings, after which I blew it up with David and Leanne inside, watching them burn. I then began hitchhiking back to the highway.  

Here I am, 28 years later—an aging bestselling author with no relationship and few friends, sitting in a coffee shop, reminiscing about the summer of 98, the year I discovered my one true love as a murderer.