Having a dead dad was part of my identity now. I knew that. No amount of self-care changes what you are, or what you can have, or the hand you’ve been dealt. June knew that too, I think, so she was just helping me learn how to ride the unbroken wave.

Pleasant Hills received another real dumping of snow two weeks later. Everyone had been hoping for a snow day, but given our diligent fleet of salting trucks, the roads were clear by five that morning. I know that because I watched it happen from my window. I didn’t mind class not being cancelled, really; it meant I got to see her.

On the ride to school, I mentioned to June how much I hated the snow.

‘You hate it?’

‘Whoa. I was not expecting that much opposition. I thought that was a normal opinion to have.’

‘Oh, is it? No. I think it’s amazing. It might just be the novelty of it. Like, you don’t really get this in So Cal. Don’t you at least think it’s pretty?’

‘Not really. I don’t know. It’s just … monochrome. I guess it’s kind of pretty when it first falls but by the next day the roads are all just covered in dirty grey sludge and everything’s just … wet. I don’t know. And there’s nothing to do in the winter.’

‘There’s this, like, famed sporting event held every four years that begs to differ.’

‘Right, yeah, sorry I don’t know how to freaking luge.’

June laughed at luge.

‘I don’t know. I just don’t like anything about it.’

‘There’s Christmas.’

I scoffed. ‘Yeah, really looking forward to that. I don’t know. Everything’s just …’ I blew a raspberry. ‘Dead.’ June didn’t speak so I kept talking. ‘Dad, uh, and me, every year as soon as it got warm, we’d start going to the River Styx every weekend. Just to go hiking. We did pretty much the same trail every time and, I don’t know, it never got boring, for some reason. That was our absolute favourite thing to do.’ The past tense strangled me. ‘And it’s just so depressing to think of it all frozen over now. I’d hate to … I don’t know. Honestly I’m not sure I’ll ever even go there again.’

‘You should go back, Whitaker. It might be good for you. If you were to, like, actually see it again – I’d bet it’s prettier than you think. Anyways. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make some new memories there, either. Reclaim the place. You know?’

I looked at her, traced the soft outline of her face with my eyes: the curve of her nose, her chin, her cupid’s bow. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’