I really, really want to send my thread right though his eye, but I keep my fist clenched and exit the car cautiously. There’s another truck in the clearing. A boy stands in the headlights. He has black hair past his shoulders and skin like tanned leather. He’s pretty and statuesque. I recognize him from the memorial: Jake Harjo.

He’s staring at me like he recognizes me too. I wonder if he was paying more attention at the memorial than I thought.

“Jake,” Jeremy says as he approaches. The two exchange a bro shake. “This is Anora. You gotta watch her. She’s already broken Devon’s nose. He wants to go home.”

“Then we have something in common,” I say curtly.

Jeremy and Jake both look at me, and Jeremy says, “You can go home. As soon as your boyfriend finds you.”

Jeremy and the others drive away, and I’m left with Jake.

“I’m sorry about him,” Jake says, and I jump. I didn’t expect him to speak to me. His voice is pleasant, deep. “He’s pretty terrible.”

“Why did you agree to this if you think he’s terrible?”

Jake kicks the ground. “If I didn’t agree, he’d have someone else here waiting with you, and I…didn’t want that.”

“But…you don’t know me.”

“But I know you’re important to Shy, and Shy was important to Lily.” He takes a seat on his tailgate. “Sorry.”

I don’t say anything. I pace, hoping Shy shows up soon. It’s getting colder.

Something rattles behind me, and I turn to see Jake reaching into a cooler.

“Capri Sun?” he asks, holding a pouch.

I look at him, wary, but accept the drink. I’m thirsty.

Jake reaches behind him again and produces a blanket. “Here. I can tell you’re cold.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“Never this way,” he says. “It’s always been official. But yes.”

I put the Capri Sun down and wrap the blanket around me, taking a seat beside him on the tailgate. It creaks with my weight. We’re quiet for several moments when I say, “I saw you at Lily’s memorial.”

He nods.

“How long were you together?”

“Through the summer,” he says. “She wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend. I was a secret, so we got creative with our hiding spots. It was exciting at first, and then one day, it wasn’t. I didn’t want to be a secret anymore. She…ended it before she…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I know what he was going to say—before she killed herself. So he believes that. “I didn’t know she was struggling.”

She wasn’t.