But last night there’d been nothing. No deserts. No Grant.

“So the thing is, there are also two of me in the dream. One of me is in one of the deserts, and the other me is in the other.”

“Is there anyone else in this world?”

Joey shook her head. “No one. And the first me has fallen, and she’s dangling on the edge of her desert, over this huge abyss. The other me is on the edge of her desert watching the first me about to basically die. And the other me has superhuman hands or something. She’s reaching out her long hand to help the first me. And the first me is trying so hard to reach the second me’s arm without plunging to her death. But she can’t, and she’s slipping. She’s slipping off her desert.”

Leo slowed the boat; the abrupt deceleration startled Joey. Leo maneuvered toward the boat’s slip. To safe land, but also to what existed upon it. “And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happens, when the other you tries to save the first you?”

“Nothing happens.” She managed a weak smile. “It’s just me trying to save me. So far there’s never anything more.”

Leo killed the motor. They both waved to Lucas on the land.

“Sorry, I feel a little crazy here,” said Joey, shaking her head, wishing she could shake the deserts right out of her. “I haven’t told anyone about the two deserts, or the two me’s.”

“You’re not crazy, Jonesey. The two deserts, the two yous…”

“Yeah?” She needed Leo to explain it to her. This was, after all, why she’d told him. Because Leo was good at making okay the things that lived in her head.

“I know how it ends.”

“Oh?” She followed Leo off the yacht. He extended his arm to help her down. “There’s symbolism here somewhere,” she laughed, and gripped his hand.

“Both yous are safe. That’s how it ends. Next time you’re awake in the dark, just tell the first you to reach longer. Harder. The second you’s gonna save her. And then wake up Grant. He’ll distract you. Or else he’ll just bring you watermel—” Leo sprouted a boyish grin that tempered Joey’s irritation at his words, transporting her back to the little boy who was once her best friend, who adventured with her each summer.

As Leo went over to talk to Lucas, Joey wedged her feet back into her sandals, thinking his watermelon dig was unfair. Grant was so much more than a guy who could be reduced to some sort of watermelon bellboy.

She checked her phone, and there it was. A staid text by Grant standards, but he would be home later. That he’d called it home was a good sign.

Joey went to the bike. Her mind swished with the day. She thought about the boy named Arthur and imagined deserts. She thought about Grant coming home, and what he would say.