Page 74 of Smashed Pumpkins

“Fair,” I say. “Strong life choice.”

We lapse into silence as the sun claws its way up behind the smoke-stained cornfield. The light turns everything hazy and unreal, like the world’s trying to pretend last night didn’t happen. We watch Val’s mom tear into the men in suits for a while.

Would my mom do the same?

Officer Childs, the cop who took our statements earlier, walks over carrying one of those cardboard drink trays. Three large coffees steam in the cool morning air.

“Figured you three could use something hot,” he says. “Little caffeine while we sort this mess out.”

Cole passes the cups down the line, murmuring a thank-you. Val takes hers and downs a long gulp like she’s trying to erase the last twelve hours from her system.

I bring mine to my lips, grateful. The heat hits my chest and almost makes me emotional.

Then Val stiffens beside me as she slowly pulls the rim away from her lips.

“What flavor is this?” she asks quietly.

Officer Childs frowns. “Pumpkin spice. Why?”

I don’t even think. I choke mid-sip and spit coffee into the dirt, barely missing the officer’s boots.

Val wrinkles her nose like she just swallowed a bug.

“Nope,” Cole says instantly. He flips the lid off his cup with his thumb and dumps the whole thing over the side of the truck.

Val and I follow suit without hesitation, brown liquid splashing into the gravel like a group decision made on instinct alone.

Officer Childs just stares at us.

Too soon, man.

Way too soon.

Val presses closer to my side, shaking her head, muffling a groan. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and glance at the ruined coffee soaking into the ground.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “We’re gonna need a different flavor.”