He wanted the night air to be cool, but it wasn’t. He would’ve even settled for scorching hot, but it refused to be that either, settling instead on the clammy warmth of abandoned tea or an end-of-a-long-day handshake. He wanted to inhale air that brought with it a new feeling, a new temperature. Something that would distinguish what came before from what came after Lily’s words. He wished the atmosphere were something he could hit. He wished it had a face he could bruise. But there was nothing around him but space and stars.

Just like the night Sarah died.

He hadn’t used a flashlight to get to the clearing that night either. They snuck out after Lily passed out, walking separately past the party diehards, the stragglers with half-lid eyes and loud voices that slipped on their vowels. They didn’t acknowledge each other until they were safely in the dark of the woods, but as soon as they crossed that threshold, their hands went everywhere.

“Is everything okay with the lady of the house?” Sarah asked when she pulled her mouth from his.

They were all positive, Lily had whispered that night as Silas wrenched a pillow free to keep her on her side. I took five tests, Si. We’re having a baby.

“She’s just drunk,” Silas said with his face in Sarah’s neck. Every time he opened his eyes, he saw his future, and he didn’t want to see anything just then. “I have something for you.”

He slipped his hand between them, his fingers pressing against her zipper. She bit his earlobe as he wrestled free a pill from his front pocket, a white circle with a slash through it. With a grin, Sarah stuck out her tongue, and Silas placed the pill just behind the round black gem in its middle.

“Let’s go swimming!” she said as she pushed off him and peeled off her shirt.

—

SILAS, ADULT AND DRUNK, broke into the clearing before he expected to, and it sent the whole world spinning, one part whiskey, one part phantom thrumming from the bike’s engine, one part kick-you-in-the-gut kind of starlight. There was no moon, which made the lake darker than usual, like a pool of ink. But without a moon, the stars were bellowing.

—

“THAT’S INSANE,” SARAH SAID, her voice carrying over the water. They were on the float, and her tan lines popped in the darkness like they were under a black light. “It’s your life too. She could get an abortion, you know. Or put the baby up for adoption. You have a say in this.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Not if you’re a pussy,” she spat. He had never seen her angry before. Not like that, not in defense of anyone but herself. He watched her face and thought, sadly, that he had found his proof. She cared about him.