We’ve already gone about a quarter of the loop. I know I can’t lose him, so I stop. He runs a few paces, then slows, bending over. Finally, he looks a little beat. As much as I love Kane, I have to admit I’m glad whenever I see a rare chink in his armor.

He inhales deeply, braces his lower back with his hands. “Oh shit. I might puke.”

I roll my eyes, then start to jog away. “Goodbye, Kane.”

“Hold up, Hail. Just hold it,” he begs. When he uses that tone of voice, I have a hard time not doing what he says. I slow. He comes up to me and says, “There’s another party. Next weekend. It’s at Luisa’s. Her parents are out of town, and Erich’s home from college. He’s bringing the beer. And she really wants you there.”

“Sure she does.”

“No, she does. She wants things to go back the way they were. We all do.”

“They can’t.”

“Okay, they can’t. But maybe we can strive for, you know, hanging out with your friends?”

I open my mouth, but what I’m thinking—that I’m not sure these people are my friends anymore—doesn’t come out.

“He would want that. You know he would.”

I hate how everyone professes to know what he would want. Because I thought I knew him best, and yet I clearly had no clue. From what I know of Declan, if you asked me what he wanted most, I’d say to be alive.

Still, me not moving on was not because I thought Declan wanted me to lie down and die with him. That’s all my choice. “All right,” I tell him.

He smiles. Then Kane steps close to me, close enough so that his face is all I can see. Is he going to kiss me? I can’t… I won’t…

Declan was my first kiss. It happened a little more than a year after what I did with Kane. I’d gone into it expecting bad breath, slobber, and teeth clattering against each other. Instead, it was an experience so memorable that I can still taste him on my tongue every morning when I wake. I can still feel the pressure of his finger under my chin, drawing my lips up to meet his mouth.

Declan was also the last person I’ve kissed. And I’m not ready for the taste of him to go away.