Mostly because alarm bel s were sounding in her brain.

There was something familiar about them.

She watched the woman's hands slip into the front of the man's jeans. Kylie's mouth dropped open. Gross. That was so lewd, yet Kylie, now hiding behind the van, stil couldn't turn away. When the couple final y parted mouths and the guy turned forward, recognition hit. Kylie gripped the side of the van, her knees suddenly feeling like jel y.

"Oh, my God."

Chapter Thirty-six

Dad?

Kylie grabbed the door handle to keep herself from fal ing face-first onto the street. What was her dad doing ... doing with ... Kylie's gaze shot to the woman, or she should say, shot to the "girl." Kylie recognized her dad's new assistant whom she'd met last month at a company picnic. The girl was in her third year of col ege.

Stil leaning against the van, Kylie did the math. While math wasn't her best subject, she figured the girl to be about four years older than Kylie herself.

And just like that, Kylie figured out a bunch of things. Like how her father's six pairs of underwear ended up being gril ed-how her mom's countless cold-shoulder moments toward her dad suddenly added up to be fair justice.

Realizing the couple had walked to where they might spot her, Kylie moved to the other side of the van. And the cold that fol owed her around the van told Kylie she wasn't alone. Yet, too emotional y distraught to think about the ghost, Kylie concentrated on not barfing up the triple scoop of ice cream she'd just consumed.

Holiday arrived shortly. "You okay?"

"Great," Kylie lied, too embarrassed, too horrified to give details. Bad enough her father had flirted with Holiday, but to see him with someone who probably stil treated her skin for acne, wel , it was just too much.

On the way back to the camp, Kylie looked at Holiday. "Do you know what qualifies as justifiable homicide?"

"No." The camp leader laughed. "But if I have to put up with Burnett much longer, I might become an expert. Who are you thinking of offing?"

"My parents." The vision of Kylie's dad groping his assistant fil ed her head and her chest ached. "Or maybe just my dad."

Kylie waited a few more minutes before she dropped the bomb. "Do you think ... you could hold off a few more weeks before you talk to my mom about my going home?"

Holiday didn't look at her, but Kylie saw the smile of victory in her profile as she continued to watch the road. "You betcha."

* * *

Monday night, almost everyone hung out at the dining hal to watch movies. Kylie, Miranda, and Del a had stayed up way too late Sunday night nursing the wounds inflicted by their respective parents. Then Kylie and Miranda went over the books Kylie had bought on dyslexia.

"This won't work," Miranda said, frustrated at just trying to read the first chapter.

"What if I read it to you?" Kylie said.

Miranda looked up at Kylie and her eyes went misty. "You'd do that?"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" Kylie asked.

"In a snap," Miranda said.

Hence, the two of them had stayed up way too late. So instead of hanging out to watch a movie, Kylie headed back to her cabin. When she opened her cabin door, the smel hit her and she wrinkled her nose. She obviously needed to clean the litter box. Then Socks, the little bal of fur Lucas had given her as a farewel gift, stuck its head out from under the sofa and hissed.

"Come here, sweetie," she cooed, but dang it if the kitten didn't go deeper under the sofa. Her phone buzzed. Kylie pul ed it out of her pocket, saw that it was her mom, and placed the phone on the coffee table and tried to coax the kitten out. After several failed attempts, Kylie gave up. "Fine, sleep under the sofa." Frustrated and tired, Kylie started pul ing her shirt off over her head and went to get her PJs on.

When she reached her dresser, she heel-kicked off her tennis shoes and pul ed out her favorite nightshirt. Slipping off her bra, she dropped it on a chair. Then and only then did she raise her eyes to the mirror.

Her breath hitched. It took her mind a second to compute what she was looking at in the reflection. And another second to get friggin' mad.

"Get out of here, you twerp!" She hurried and slipped on her night shirt before turning her ful fury on Perry, who had transformed himself into a lion and was stretched out and taking up her whole bed.

"Out!" Kylie seethed.

The lion roared.

Kylie grabbed her boobs beneath the nightshirt and raged, "You final y got a peek at your first set of boobs, didn't you? You are so ... so pathetic. And don't you think for one minute that I won't tel Miranda about this, either."

She reached down and picked up her shoe and threw it at the beast. "Out!" The animal roared again. "I swear to God, Perry, if you don't sparkle your ass out of here, I'l pin both your ears behind your head and break your neck."

The room's temperature suddenly dropped a good fifty degrees.

"Don't scream," a male voice said. "And don't make any sudden moves."

Kylie's heart slammed against her ribs when she saw the soldier standing beside her night table. It wasn't so much that he was there that had her mental y stammering, it was that he'd spoken to her.

She took in a deep breath. A wisp of steam escaped her lips as she exhaled.

Goose bumps rose on her flesh. She crossed her arms to fight the chil . "The lion isn't real," she managed to say. "It's Perry. He's a shapeshifter."