Matt remembered circling yes on an identical note seven years ago in science class. He checked the time again: 2:39 A.M. He could borrow the Escalade from Ganesh, but he’d been drinking. He could wake up Curtis to drive him. Or, if he went on foot, he could probably make it. He examined the note again. Then he threw on his shirt and jeans and reached for his sneakers.

Matt made it to the Knoll with five minutes to spare. He was sweaty, worried that he smelled from the run, but he was cooling off in the breeze. It was warmer tonight, but otherwise a lot like that night when he was in ninth grade: the leaves rustling overhead, the only light from the moon, which was intermittently covered by clouds. The same pounding in his chest. He wasn’t an innocent boy anymore, of course. He’d kissed his share of girls since then. But none had sent fire through him like Jessica Wheeler. He was glamorizing it all, he was sure. Why was it, he wondered, that we do that? Rosy up memories and make them idealized versions of what really happened.

He stood at the center of the opening in the trees, imagining Jessica all those years ago appearing from the forest, holding a flashlight, wearing pajama bottoms and a tight sleep shirt. He reminded himself that he knew nothing of this girl—this woman—now. They were likely very different people. He’d spent his formative years in Chicago, college in New York. She’d stayed in Adair, apparently working at Pipe Layers. It had been only seven years, but that was a full third of their lives. But something about the way she’d pushed through the crowd at the bar, fearlessly taken charge and broken up the altercation, gave him the same rush he’d had in ninth grade.

Matt scanned the area and didn’t see her. Maybe she’d thought better of it. Or it was a prank. Or worse, someone luring him up there to get some payback for the documentary’s hit job on the town. But he’d never told anyone of that night, and only Jessica knew about the note.

A light appeared from the woods.

Jessica ambled over to him. “You came.”

She clicked the flashlight off and they stood there. In the silver haze he saw the girl from science class. The delicate heart-shaped face. She was older, her hair longer, more stylish. She was still about an inch shorter than Matt. They’d grown at the same pace. And those lips … Matt needed to snap out of it.

The words were caught in his throat for some reason, so he just nodded.

“Sorry for the sneaking around,” Jessica said. “You’re not the most popular guy in the world after that TV show. And I have a business to run.…”