And for a second, the look she’s giving me, her frustration’s kinda melty. But then I see it, that this isn’t a thing she can let go. I see it, a transformation, her hardening right in front of me. I’m losing her.

It’s like having Friend Finder on—you know exactly where your friends are, but still you weren’t actually with them.

I know where Autumn is, but I can’t be there with her.

She shakes her head. “Maybe I’ll catch you later.”

And I should let myself be hurt, but I shrug. I double down. “Yeah, well, maybe I won’t be around later.”

She nods. “Like I said, leave the keys under the seat.”

I break our gaze, glance at her friends. Tip my head like I’m wearing a top hat, like I’m leaving a drawing room. “You ladies have a good night.” Then I’m weaving solo through the entire Elytown High student body, most of whom, thankfully, have resumed partying.

I say a few goodbyes.

Thank the host for having me.

Smile like it’s all good.

Laugh like never better.

Shake the keys in my palm like dice, tell myself, you got this, Jamal. It’s no big deal.

I trudge up the long sloping dune, thoughts stuttering across my brain like ticker tape.

How could Q not even acknowledge what he’d done?

How could he compare his actions to mine?

Yeah, I missed something important in his life—I admit it.

But he was the cause of the tragedy in mine.

And what does it mean that in barely two minutes, I’d lost Autumn?

The absence of four words didn’t mean the absence of love.

Love could be fully present even if the words weren’t.

Didn’t she feel it? Hasn’t she felt loved?

Wasn’t the feeling, the knowing, better than any words?

And also, less importantly:

How am I going to get home?

Whit, the only person in the world I can call.

Whit, my only person.

I’m halfway up the weathered stairs, thinking how, on a dime, a tide could completely turn and level you.

I’m nearly to the top when I hear the screams.

91

I pause.

Because maybe it was a kid playing.

Maybe it was my imagination.

Maybe it was the music.

The wind and lake and waves.

But then I hear it again.

Another scream.

Away from the party.

On the other side of the dunes.

None of the bonfire kids seem to notice.

I scan for Autumn, but she’s nowhere I can see.

I tear back down the stairs.

My hands won’t stop shaking, and then I realize it’s because my entire body’s shaking. I race up the sandy hill, causing a mini sandvalanche, and I lose my footing. I roll halfway down the other side before I catch myself.