He shifts beside me, his presence a silent plea for me to let him in. He doesn't have to say anything; I feel his desire to understand, to take away the pain. He's always been like that—ready to drown in my sorrows just to spare me the weight. But some burdens are mine alone. Not because he isn't willing to share them, but because some parts of grief are too personal, too raw to hand over, even to him.

"I know," I murmur, watching the sunlight spill across the cliffside, painting everything with a golden glow. "I'm just… still trying to figure out how to be okay."

I shift the focus away from my inner turmoil and divert the conversation. "Are you excited about Duke?"

He stretches out, looking thoughtful against the backdrop of the rising sun. "Yeah, I guess. I mean it's kinda terrifying. Feels surreal, like one chapter's ending without knowing what the next one holds."

"Is it what you want to be doing, for real?" I probe, needing to steer away from my own uncertain future.

He laughs, a sound tinged with unease. "I guess. There's a lot I still need to sort out."

The conversation shifts again, and suddenly, Jake's tone grows serious. "Your mom mentioned last year was tough with the kids at school. Did any of them show up at the funeral?" His question makes me uncomfortable because it brings to light things I've tried to bury.

No, not one.

By then, my tarnished reputation had driven everyone away.

"You were there. That's all that mattered," I say, managing a weak smile that doesn't quite mask the pain.

His eyes soften, filled with a mix of understanding and something else—perhaps a wish to offer more comfort. He nods, looking back toward the horizon where the sun climbs higher, igniting the sky with shades of orange and pink.

Inside, the turmoil doesn't cease. The ghosts of last summer, the whispers of Evan, the echoes of Claire who claimed to be my best friend, and the crushing weight of shame swirl around me. The worst of it is the last real conversation with my dad, that's where the guilt stems from. He had seen the signs and recognized my silent pleas for help. Now, he's gone, and with him, the last shred of understanding I had clung to.

Jake's question snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Where'd you get the bracelet? I haven't seen that one before."

I look down at the thin band Nate picked for me at the carnival.

"Nate won it for me," I say quietly. Jake's expression shifts, a flicker of something passing over his face.

"Oh, right." His voice has an edge to it now, and I can tell he's holding something back.

Jake's always been great at hiding his feelings, but I feel the tension between us about the whole Nate thing.