We start across the wide expanse of Boston Common, which is filled with people even though it’s already cold as hell. I shiver, and he takes off his coat without a word and drapes it around my shoulders.

“You don’t have to—”

“Shut up,” he says with a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

His warmth seeps into me, caught in the fibers of the wool coat.

I wonder what Micah’s doing. He didn’t call me back last night—the first time that’s ever happened.

“It’s okay, though,” I say.

“What?”

“Am I talking out loud?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Never mind.” I reach out my hands as the sun blazes out from behind a cloud and gives my face a big, warm kiss, so I kiss it back. “I am so much smarter than my sister!”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Yes. She’s fucking sweating it out at that jail school place Saint whatever and I am in Boston Common with you and we know the secret of everything.” I smile at him. “Mom told me I should never wear sensible shoes or business casual.”

He looks down at my canvas tennis shoes, no socks.

“You took her advice.”

The sad, it just swoops in and whispers, Your mother is dead, and I can’t breathe.

“Hey,” Drew says. “Hannah, hey. Let’s do my favorite thing. Yeah? It’ll be nice. I promise.”

“She’s dead.”

“I know.” He takes my arm. “I know,” he says again, very soft, but not in a patronizing grief voice. He is actually really listening. Hearing me. No one ever does that.

We pass a pretzel cart and just the thought of it makes me want to hurl. A guy is selling balloons. Little kids on a school trip, all connected to one another on harnesses, like some kind of primary-color chain gang.

When we reach the grass, Drew pulls me toward the green blades. “Lie down. But close your eyes.”

I lie down. I close my eyes. The grass feels prickly.

The sand falls faster, faster. The sun is warm, and all the sounds, it’s all happening.

“It’s all happening,” I whisper.

Bright warm light, an opening wider and wider, I open, my chest filling with the sun, and oh my God, how did I not see this before, see all of this?

“It’s all one,” I say. “Holy shit, I AM the walrus. They put this secret in the song! You are me and we are all together—fuck. No wonder Yoko fell for him. John Lennon, man. John fucking Lennon. Wow.”

I feel Drew squeeze my hand.

Everyone’s peak looks different. Mine is like what Mae says being in a space camp gravity tank is like.

Z

E

R

O

Gravity.

But then I feel it go. After a while. Like bubbles popping. Such pretty sky water. Then: gone.