He remains still, one hand cradling my head and the other awkwardly cupping my elbow. Then he is looking down at me, and in a rush he says, “If they had lived, if I saved them, there would be—” He’s cut off by a wave, and once we rid our mouths of water, he finishes. “There would be no Orman.”

It’s dark, we’re both in over our heads—literally and metaphorically—and we need to dredge ourselves from the lake, but I find his eyes in the storm. I don’t know who they are or if Nolan could have truly saved them, but I know Orman has rescued countless people, in the way only powerful stories can, and that can never be a bad thing.

“Just because it came from something terrible doesn’t make Orman less beautiful,” I say. “You weren’t wrong to write it, Nolan, no matter where it came from.”

This is not the time or place for a meeting of souls. More waves knock against us, their frequency and magnitude breaking our eye contact, but I must have said something right because Nolan finds it within himself to drag us to the shore, our bodies impossibly heavy as we emerge from the water.

We crawl when we reach solid ground, elbows bumping, as Wally barks and runs in mad circles around us. Nolan looks over his shoulder at the waves and shudders. His face pales and I wonder if he’ll faint. Instead, he fumbles in the back pocket of his jeans before extricating his cell phone and flipping it open.

“It must be ruined,” I say, but the screen shines through the darkness like a tiny beacon, illuminating his face as he dials Alex’s number. God bless brick phones.

Nolan tells Alex to bring his truck and then hangs up and leans forward to where I lie flat on my stomach.

“You’re okay?” he asks. His hands are shaking. I reach up and hold the one on his knee. It’s cold from the water, but I don’t think that’s why he’s shivering.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Are you okay?”

He looks out over the water before he answers, but he doesn’t move his hand from beneath mine.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“I know,” I say.

“But you did.”

“I know.”

He hesitates. “How…”

When he looks down at me, I can tell he’s not a supernova like Jenna, an old star burning its way out of this galaxy and into the next. He’s brand new, a soul still learning how to navigate this odd world of whales and clever winds. Like me.

So I tell him the truth, even though it sounds crazy.

“I heard you.”

When Alex’s headlights flash through the sheets of rain, they highlight Nolan’s silhouette and nearly blind me, but neither of us is willing to move our eyes away, still taking each other’s measure.

Alex’s car door slams. “What are you guys doing? Get out of the rain! Let’s go!”