Jordan and I offered to take the others home and pick them up first thing in the morning—their parents would be worried, for one, and our friends had no way of reaching them—but they all refused. They were “in it to win it,” as Tico said—or “mmmph mmmph mmmm mmmph mmmph,” to quote Troy. If all went well, everyone could report back to their families afterward. And if not, well, we were all doomed anyway.

I pulled the pickup into a remote spot near the trailhead where the forest flattened out, and Jordan and I remained in the front seats while Suzanne and Tico took the back seat. There was room for Troy there, too, but he insisted on staying outside on the cargo bed, which at least had a blanket spanning the floor. Plus, it was warm enough that he didn’t have to cover up.

I placed my hand over the cup holder between Jordan and me, and he followed suit, intertwining his fingers with mine. In unison we turned toward the back seat, where Tico was sleeping with his mouth yawning open and his head on Suzanne’s shoulder. Her head was tilted back, with little whistly noises coming out of her nose.

“This is nice,” I whispered.

“It is,” Jordan responded. “What did you mean that I’m not your—”

“Shhhh,” I whispered, and put my index finger over his lips. He pursed them a little, like he was hedging whether it was a kiss, and then smiled.

We closed our eyes, and sleep didn’t come, for me at least. My mind was racing with the events of that day and the day before and the day before—and Jordan’s hand was so warm, so soft. I gave it a little stroke with my thumb. He responded in kind.

I squinted at him, and he was looking back at me.

“You know,” I whispered, “I thought by now there would be more kissing.”

“Well, if I were your boyfriend and all,” he responded.

I slapped his chest with the back of my hand, then took his hand again.

“Seems like it was just last week that I asked you to the homecoming dance,” I said.

“I think it was just a few days ago.”

“Feels like a lifetime ago.”

I looked in his eyes, and, man, he still could melt me with one look. I glanced again at Tico and Suzanne sleep-wheezing together.

“We never got to process it,” I whispered. “We were coming together and then boom.”

“How are we supposed to process it?”

“Did I mention the kissing part?”

“You did. You sound like you have experience in such matters.”

I laughed. “Just Bradley Dunford, and that was a long time ago.”

“Blechh,” he said. “I don’t want to remember that.”

“Remember?”

“I knew about it. Of course I did. I’ve been your best friend since forever, and I liked you back when you were spinning the bottle with that pimply little shit. I just didn’t do anything about it.”