He looks up at me, and in the dark his eyes look like fathomless pits. His face writhes in torment, a frantic, miserable expression shifting over him. My heart is suddenly in my throat, and I’m not sure why.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if the only person I hurt was myself?” he whispers. Another shiver passes through him. His hair sticks up like a blond halo around his head, bright against the wide darkness beyond him.

“Garrett.” I’m kneeling now, my bare legs aching beneath me. The scrapes on my knees burn against the stony outcropping. “Things will be better. I promise. But you have to back up for me.”

He shakes his head. “Things won’t be better,” he says softly. “Not for me.” He leans forward, his eyes wide and staring into the abyss. “Maybe I could make them better for everyone else, though.”

The fear from a moment ago is back, but now it’s different—now I’m not afraid for myself. I inch closer to him.

“Do you really think Louisa would feel that way? Or your mom?” The wind swirls up from the ravine, cutting right through my hoodie, so sharp I can feel it in my bones. “How do you think they’d feel if they lost you?” I swallow hard. “How do you think I’d feel?”

I can hear the faint echo of my own voice dancing through the chasm below. How would I feel? I know I don’t love Garrett. But I do care about him. When we first got together, I thought I could help him get over the things that had hurt him. I thought if I were pretty enough, charming enough, fun enough, if I could distract him enough, he’d just get better.

Now that seems insanely narcissistic, even for me.

“Please, Garrett,” I say, my voice shaking. I hold out my hand to him. “Come off the ledge, okay? Please.”

He stares at my hand, his face strange and distant. His eyes seem to have a hard time focusing, his head wobbling on his neck. For a moment we’re frozen in place, and I can’t breathe.

Then his hand clasps mine, and my shoulders sag with relief.

His palm is moist, and the salt of his sweat burns the stings and cuts I’ve accumulated all night long. I pull him toward me, away from that nightmare abyss. He stumbles against me. I put my arms around him to steady him, and we stand like that for a moment. I can feel the tremble that’s seized his body, fluttering against my heart.

“We should get out of here,” he whispers. The scare seems to have sobered him up a little. His pupils are enormous in the darkness, his eyes focusing more clearly now.