Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between(50)

“Yeah,” she says, tugging him a little closer. “What do you think?”

A few seconds pass as they study each other, and then his face cracks open again, his smile broadening, and he dives onto the couch without letting go of her hand, pulling her down with him, so that they end up tangled there together.

“I think,” he says, as they rearrange themselves, his face very close to hers, his breath warm and sweet, “that it sounds like a very good plan.”

She reaches up and runs her fingers over the bandage beneath his right eye, pressing it gently back into place. “Good.”

“Though still not as good as mine.”

“Shut up,” she says, but even as she does, his lips are meeting hers, and they’re both fighting back smiles, because for once, he already has.

The Lake

3:54 AM

The inner tube that’s tucked under Clare’s arm begins to flap in the breeze the moment they hit the sand.

“This,” she says, holding it tighter, “is a terrible idea.”

But Aidan isn’t listening. He’s already plunging ahead toward the water, which is almost indistinguishable from the beach in the darkness. Only the sound of the waves and the wedge of moonlight across the surface give it away.

Clare has never been out here so late before—or so early, really, given that it’s nearly four AM now—and as she stumbles toward the shoreline, she wonders if it’s always so windy at this time of night. Together, they trudge ahead beneath the waning moon, their feet sinking deep into the cool sand with each step.

Back in the basement, this whole endeavor had sounded vaguely unappealing, but still with some potential to be good fun. Now, though, with the rush of waves loud in her ears, the night deep and vast all around her, it seems downright insane.

“This is a really stupid idea,” she says again, but Aidan’s head is lost in his shirt, which he’s trying to peel off. When he finds his way out of it, he tosses it to the ground beside him, and looks over as if he’d forgotten she was there.

“What?” he asks, unbuttoning his jeans and then stepping out of them. He stands there watching her, wearing only his blue boxers, looking pale in the moonlight. But his face is set and determined, and already he’s swinging his arms in circles to loosen up.

“I don’t think you should do this.”

“It’s fine,” he says, hopping from one foot to the other. “It’s just a little late-night swim.” He stops and grins at her. “You could come, too.”

“No way,” she says, shuddering a little. “It’s too dark. And the water’s freezing. And I’m sure it’s a lot farther out than it looks.”

“That’s the whole point.”

“What is?”

“It can’t be epic if there’s no challenge to it,” he says simply, and then reaches out for the inner tube. She hands it over reluctantly. It’s hard to tell if the thing will even float. She found it in the back of the hall closet, left over from a few years ago, when her dad broke his tailbone trying to prove he could still play hockey on his fiftieth birthday. For weeks, he couldn’t sit down without the black inflatable doughnut.

Now, if Aidan succeeds, Rusty will wear it proudly on his skinny metal neck: a lifeline for the perpetually drowning robot.

Aidan turns it over in his hands a few times with a smile. “Sometimes the hardest things are the ones most worth doing.”

“Who said that?”

He shrugs. “Me.”

“Come on.”

“Fine. My dad.”

Clare frowns at him. “Is that what this is about? Because you know you don’t have to prove anything.…”

“I know,” he says, looking back at the water impatiently. Above them, the clouds have parted and the stars are crowded and bright. Clare shivers as a sharp wind cuts right through her thin sweater.

“I don’t think you do,” she says. “Look, you made your choice, and it’s a good one. Now you have to let yourself off the hook. Your dad will get over it at some point.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“He will,” she says firmly. “But even if not…”

Aidan folds his arms across his chest. “Even if not, this is still something I need to do for myself.”

“But why?” she asks. “This is crazy.”

“It’s our last night. Everything’s ending. I can’t think of a better time to do something crazy.” He tilts his head at her. “Can you?”

“I guess not,” she says eventually, though she’s still uneasy. “But if you drown out there, I’m going to kill you.”

He laughs. “Fair enough.”

“Just be careful,” she says more seriously, and he gives her a little salute.

“I will.”

“And hurry up, okay? Rusty’s been waiting a really, really long time.”

As he goes loping off toward the water, Clare realizes this might be the happiest she’s seen him all night. Just before wading in, he turns back to wave. Even in the dark, she can see that he’s grinning wildly.

“It’s freezing,” he yells, the words hollowed out by the wind.

Clare takes a few steps in the direction of the shore, watching as—all at once—he turns and plows into the water, running hard against the waves until it’s deep enough for him to dive in and start swimming.