Beth is convinced I have diabetes or hypoglycemia or something because I went all “rigid and strange” while Cory was cutting my hair.

She won’t fucking leave it alone.

“My first thought was it’s her sugars,” Beth tells Mom over lunch, which consists of scary green smoothies for both of them and me sitting there and not eating anything. Now that Mom’s out of bed, I want to be in the house less, but Milo hasn’t called me and I know it’s because if I said a fight was on, I have to tell him when it’s off, but secretly I think he should end it because everyone’s daily goal should be making things easier for me while I’m in mourning. “Does your family have a history of diabetes or anything like that?”

“What?” Mom asks. She’s been staring out the window.

“And she’s pale all the time,” Beth continues. “Look at her—sallow, even. I can see it now that her hair is finally out of her face.”

Mom stares at my hair for a long time, until she finally spots the difference.

“It’s a nice haircut, Eddie,” she says.

Beth frowns. “But look at her complexion. So pale.”

“Maybe I need more Vitamin D,” I suggest.

“Well, I’ve been saying that forever—”

“So I’ll get some.” I get to my feet. “Like, right now. I’ll get some.”

“Are you going out?” Mom asks. Something about this much of her voice after a forever of almost total silence is setting me on edge. “With Milo? I never see Milo around anymore…”

“When would you even notice that?” I ask.

It doesn’t even come out of my mouth meanly, even though that’s what I feel in my heart, but because she’s my mother, she senses it. She knows where my heart is when I say it.

And she cries.

I leave the room awkwardly, my chest winding itself tight. Hearing your mother cry never gets easier to take. It’s a sound that goes through you each time. I’d never seen her cry before he died. I’d never made her cry. I have made her cry. I push through the front door. I’m halfway down the walk when Beth appears.

“I got her to promise to try today,” she says, furious. “She was trying and you ruined it.”

It’s the meanest thing Beth has ever said to me.

She goes back inside before I can say something equally mean to her.

Hate her. Hate this. Hate this. Hate this. I hate this. I grab my bike and pedal fast, hard. I focus on the way it feels, the air against my face. I’m going to tell Milo about this and then we will go to the river and he will have his flask and I will hate Beth and drink until I love the world again and everything in it.

But when I get to Fuller’s, Missy’s car is there. Of course.

I do a few laps in the parking lot next to Fuller’s and debate going somewhere else, but fuck it. She can be his girlfriend all she wants. He was my friend first. And even if she is his girlfriend again, she’s only here for the summer. Totally still a temp.

I pedal over, toss my bike on the ground, and practically throw myself inside, saying, “So! What are we all doing today?”

Missy and Milo are at the register, forever, always. They’re surprised to see me.

Missy’s eyes widen.

“You cut your hair!” She rushes over and pulls at the ends. “Oh, wow, Eddie. That looks great. You can totally see your face.”

“Nice face,” Milo says behind her.

Missy keeps touching it. Cory did an okay job on my hair, I guess, after my freak-out. He thinned it out and made it short—just barely past my chin—with jagged edges and declared it a style. I can live with it. I mean, it could have been worse. In a place like CUTZ, I could’ve just as easily walked out with some kind of country music–inspired disaster.

“Thanks,” I mutter, moving away from Missy.

Nobody says anything. I look at Milo and he looks at me, but he’s not giving me an out or any help. It makes me mad. I don’t want to talk to him with her here.

So I don’t say anything.

But Missy eventually catches on and she says, “Oh, hey. You know what? I told my grandpa I’d pick up a bag of mulch from the co-op for him. I should do that while I remember. Be right back.”

“See you in a few,” Milo says.

She leaves.

Milo turns back to the register like he finds it very interesting.

I lean against one of the freezers.

Silence.

“We’re not in a fight anymore,” I finally tell him.

“I’m thrilled,” he says.

It comes out of his mouth casually, but he hates me when he says it, like I hated my mom when I spoke to her earlier and I don’t know what upsets me more, me doing that to her or him doing that to me but I feel it all on me and my face gives it away.

“Shit,” he says, alarmed. “Eddie, I’m—”

“Don’t,” I tell him. “Forget it.”

No sign of Missy yet. My father is dead. He killed himself. The studio is cleaned out. I have been kissed by a guy who is older than me and knows how to kiss. I’ve been thinking about how I want to have sex. I cut my hair. My mom tried to talk to me today and I ruined it. Beth says I ruined it. This whole summer is a bust.

“How did cleaning out the studio go?” Milo asks. I shrug. If he wanted to know, he could’ve taken me. “Who was that guy? The one that drove you? That wasn’t Beth.”

I don’t know why I like that Milo wants to know, but I like it. I like it in a weird way I shouldn’t. It makes me tingle a little bit.

“Beth uhm, bailed. He’s a photographer. A student. My father’s student,” I answer. Milo raises an eyebrow. “I know. I didn’t know about him before … He gave me a ride and helped me clear out everything. His name is Culler Evans.”

“How old is he?”

“Twenty-one,” I lie. I don’t know why. “He’s nice.”

“It was nice of him to help you.”

“Yeah.”

“I really wish I could have—”

“I was serious, though,” I interrupt, because I don’t want to hear it from him. I want to hear it less and less. “What are we doing today?”

“You actually want to hang out with us?” Milo asks. “Because if you do, we’re going to Jenna’s after my shift. Jenna and Aaron, me, you, Missy. Wasting an afternoon around the pool. Sound good?”

I nod, but I wonder if he really wants me there. It’s probably easier for everyone when I’m not around.

He would freak if I said that out loud.

*   *   *

Jenna’s been popular ever since she got a pool, which was the sixth grade. It’s not one of those lame, aboveground pools either. Inground. Great length. It’s cool. We all flock to it and we never stop being impressed by it because rural life means being that easy. I think the nicest thing about lounging around Jenna’s pool is that you can be present, but you don’t have to engage and by not engaging, you’re engaging. Disengaging is engaging.

I drink a couple of beers with Missy and end up dozing on a towel next to the pool. Jenna’s loaned me one of her swimsuits. All she seems to own are bikinis.

Maybe I’ll get a tan.

But it’s awesome that this is all I have to do. It’s enough. Conversations happen around me and sometimes I’ll chime in or laugh when someone’s said something funny, but mostly I just enjoy the lack of expectations and the sun on my face.

This is how my summer was supposed to be.

“Hey.” Milo pokes me in the side. He’s been sitting next to me, his legs in the pool, for the last hour or so. “Switch sides or you’ll burn.”

“I always burn,” I tell him, but I roll onto my stomach and turn my head to the pool. Missy and Jenna are at the other end, talking and pretending to watch Aaron dive. He takes it really seriously, which is funny because it’s not like he’s on any teams or anything. It’s not like Branford High even has a pool. I close my eyes again.

I wonder what Culler Evans is doing right now.

“Sunscreen?” Milo asks.

“I guess.”

I expect him to hand me the bottle but he doesn’t. Just like that, his hands are on my back, smoothing the lotion into my skin, and I tense because it’s the freakiest thing.

“My mom tried today,” I tell him.

“That’s great.”

He sounds like he means it.

“I made her cry.”

“That’s not so great.”

He pushes what’s left of my hair back from my neck, and I feel him hesitate, just for a second. Noticing the difference. I wonder what he really thinks of it and if he likes it or if he doesn’t. I wonder if I care either way.

At what point is sunscreen fully absorbed into the skin? Milo touches me longer than he has to, but that’s okay. His palms smooth across my shoulder blades. I keep my eyes closed. After a while, his hands are off me, but I feel that he’s near, more than I did before. For some reason it makes me feel sad but grateful. I want to open my eyes and tell him it’s nice to know that he’s there, but I don’t. I just want to keep this moment going as long as I can.

And because that’s what I want, of course Missy swims over and ruins it.

“Getting in?” she asks him.

“Nah,” he says. “It’s nice out here.”

“It’s nice in here too.”

I almost risk cracking an eye open just to see what kind of look they’re exchanging when Aaron’s voice drifts from the other side of the pool.

“Ready for this?” he calls.

“Aaron, you asshole, get down from there,” Missy yells. “You’ll break your neck.”

I open my eyes. Missy and Milo are turned away from me. It takes me a minute to spot Aaron. I look to the diving board first, but he’s not there.

He’s on the roof.

He climbed out there through Jenna’s window. The visual makes my heart jump, spastic beats, horrible beats—an ugly fear running through my veins even though I know it’s not what it looks like. Aaron is going to jump off the roof and into the pool. The ultimate dive. It’s stupid and it’s dangerous, but it’s not impossible. I’ve seen this happen at Jenna’s house before.

No one has ever died doing it.

“I’m fine,” Aaron shouts.

“He’s fine,” Jenna echoes. “He’s done this a hundred times.”

Missy and Milo are quiet, eyes trained on Aaron, and before anyone can blink, Aaron launches himself off the roof and the time it takes him to fall seems like one of those forever kind of seconds—the kind you feel every inch of yourself present for, the kind where you can absorb every detail and recall it easily later, but also the kind that’s gone so quickly you wonder how it’s even possible to have walked away with that much of it carved into your soul.

He hits the water with a loud splash. I flinch.

And then it’s over.

But some things—they just ruin your day.

Like, completely.

“Asshole,” Milo mutters. His voice is strained. I close my eyes. “She see it?”

“No,” Missy says. There are wet splashy sounds and I realize Missy is hoisting herself out of the pool. I imagine how jiggly that must look; she’s in a bikini too. “I’m going in to get a beer. Come with me.”

“Sure,” Milo says. He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. His hands are trembling. I shrug him off because I can’t stand how that feels. It doesn’t feel nice, his touching me—not like before. He leans close to my ear. “Hey, wake up. We’re going inside for a second. Coming?”

“No,” I say.

“You want anything?”

“No.”

He squeezes my shoulder again and then they go. I lay there for a minute and then I open my eyes. Aaron is doing laps around the pool. He really is an asshole, but it’s not his fault, I guess. It’s not like my dad died so he can never jump off roofs in front of me again.

“What’s the roof feel like?” I ask, when he gets close to me.

He pauses and treads water. His black hair is plastered against his forehead. He pinches his nose and says, “It’s sort of hot. Makes sense, though, right? Closer to the sun.”

“Were you afraid?”

“I’ve done it before.”

“You could bash your head off the side of the pool. Brains everywhere,” I say, and he lets out a nervous laugh. “How can you be sure that’s not going to happen?”

“It’s really not that far,” Aaron says, gesturing to the roof. Jenna’s window is wide open, where he climbed out. The roof slopes down, closer to the pool than it isn’t. “Just get a little momentum and you’re good.” He studies me. “Gonna do it?”

“Jump off a roof?” I ask. “You mean, like my dad?”

Aaron’s eyes get round, but he doesn’t say anything. I get to my feet and pad across the hot concrete. I pull open the sliding glass doors that lead into the kitchen. Missy, Jenna, and Milo are gathered around the island. I spot limeade, tequila and beer. Missy catches my eye.

“Beer margaritas,” she explains. “Want one?”

I make a face. “No, thanks.”

“Good call,” Milo says.

“Shut up, they taste awesome,” Jenna says.

I pass them and make my way into the living room.

“Where are you going?” Milo calls after me.

“Gotta pee,” I call back.

“That’s what the pool’s for,” he says.

Jenna and Missy break into a chorus of ewwws and giggles.

I walk up the stairs. My stomach is twisting and my palms are sweaty-nervous because I’m going to climb out that window and I am going to jump into the pool. I imagine this walk for my father. The way to Tarver’s. He probably wasn’t nervous. He was so ready. How do you get to a point where you’re that ready?

Will I reach it by the time I reach the window?

Jenna’s bedroom is all purple. It’s very Jenna. The window is wide open, and a feeble breeze is pushing the sheer white curtains my way. They’re hands, reaching out to me. I go to them. I have my foot on the sill. I’m halfway out. I can see the pool from here.

I can’t tell if I’m afraid I’ll jump or I’m afraid I won’t.

What if I’m that statistic that hits the concrete even though the water is so close?

“Don’t.” Milo’s voice is behind me, but I don’t turn around. “Eddie, if you do I’ll never speak to you again.”

“There’s water,” I say. “I’m not suicidal.”

“I mean it.”

“Aaron looked like he was having fun.” I stare out. It’s a longer drop than from my bedroom window. It’s the highest up I’ve ever been. “Do you think the answer is in the fall?”

“Eddie, shut up.”

I force myself through the window and stand straight up on the roof. It’s dizzying for a second. If I lost my footing, I would miss, maybe. Or not miss.

“Eddie.”

“I want to go up on the roof at Tarver’s,” I tell him, glancing back. He’s at the window and he looks mad. “But I’m too scared. I want you to go with me.”

“I won’t go there with you.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing there,” he says impatiently. “Get back inside. You’ll get hurt.”

“Aaron jumped and he didn’t get hurt.”

“Aaron does it all the time and he’s just doing it for fun—”

I turn around. Too fast. I overbalance and grab on to the sill to steady myself. Milo grabs my arm. I’m bent over and our faces are close.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” I ask.

“You play chicken with trucks and wander around condemnable buildings at night,” he says. “I have no idea what you’re trying to do.”

“Liar,” I say.

He stares at me for a long minute.

“None of this is going to tell you anything,” he finally says.

It’s like my heart dissolves into a million angry bubbles that find their way up my throat. He gets it, but he doesn’t, and that’s worse. I want to tell him I’ll know what it’s like to really fall and that’s something I wouldn’t have known yesterday. That’s important.

“I’m going to do it.”

His grip moves from my arm. He grabs my hand, wrapping his fingers around my fingers. He squeezes them.

“Your hand is cold,” he says.

I hesitate. “I told you.”

“Eddie, please come back inside.”

He looks at me in a way that breaks my heart, like I’m hurting him. He pulls me back into Jenna’s bedroom and I let him. He keeps his fingers around mine and we sit on the bed, holding hands.

“You were there, Milo,” I say. “Tell me.”

“Eddie, I don’t know why he killed himself.”

“You were still there,” I say, “and you won’t talk about it.”

“You were there too. I don’t need to.”

“You make me feel alone.”

I can’t believe I just say it like that. You make me feel alone. Maybe I confuse him. Maybe he doesn’t know when what happened stops being about my dad and starts being about us. It confuses me too.

“I’m sorry.” He says it so quietly. He squeezes my hand. “Feel that?”

“They’re not numb,” I mumble. “Just cold.”

He exhales slowly and then he stares at the ceiling.

“They’re not cold,” he says. “… They were cold.”

I look at him.

“I called your cell that night,” he says, and my breath catches in my throat. He looks at me and his eyes are completely defeated. “And you didn’t pick up. It felt different.”

Like the world changed. That’s what I want to say, but I don’t. The same thing that made him call me was the same thing that made me go to my father, when I’d never done that before.

It felt different.

“I called your house and your mom told me you were at Tarver’s.” He falls silent for a minute. “I don’t know why I went…”

Downstairs, I can hear Missy and Jenna laughing. Aaron’s voice. It’s all so out of place. They are. We are. I don’t know anymore. Nothing is right in this moment, even though I think I’m finally getting what I want.

“I don’t remember hearing my phone,” I say suddenly. I can’t remember hearing my phone but I know it was with me. “At all…”

“I wish you had,” he says. “When I—”

He breaks off. Stops. I wait. Maybe he needs a minute and I’ll let him have the minute, but then the minute passes and he shakes his head and says, “I can’t,” and gets up from the bed, his hand free of my hand. It feels so empty.

“Just get it over with,” I tell him.

“No—”

“Milo—”

“Just fucking stop, Eddie!” he pleads. I close my eyes and then he says, “I’m sorry.” He clears his throat. “Look, I’m going back downstairs, so if you—”

“Whatever.”

“Eddie—”

“Forget it.”

I open my eyes.

He pauses. “You’re not going to—”

“Just go.” Asshole.

He goes. I stay in Jenna’s room for a really long time. No one bothers me, which is weird. I wonder what Milo told them. If Jenna was hanging out in my room while everyone else was having a great time downstairs, I wouldn’t be okay with that, even if you threw a recently deceased father into the mix. I wonder if that makes me a bad person.

And then I hear footsteps making their way down the hall.

I hope it’s Milo, but it’s not.

It’s that other person whose name starts with M.

“Hey,” Missy says. Her hair doesn’t look that great post-pool. Stringy and dried out. It makes her face seem too round. This is one of those rare instances I look better than her.

“Hi,” I say.

She sits down beside me. I bet Jenna sent her.

“Where’s Milo?”

“Drinking in the garage with the guys,” she says. “Deacon and Jeff are here.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay?” Missy asks. I roll my eyes and then I feel like a jerk for doing it. Luckily, she laughs and says, “Stupid question.”

“Yeah,” I say.

Maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m being unfair. A cool breeze is coming in through the open window. I stare outside, past the sloping roof. From the bed, you can only see the edge of the pool, and my towel, where I left it. The lighter part of this afternoon already feels far away.

I make things so awkward.

“I’m not jealous of you,” I blurt out. She stares at me. “I mean, I’m not trying to make things really weird between all three of us. I don’t hate you guys together or anything—”

“What?”

I feel my face turn red. I don’t know how I can put it any more simply. Trust Marilyn Monroe to be stupid enough not to get it. Okay, that is unfair because I think I read somewhere Marilyn Monroe was smarter than anyone ever gave her credit for.

“Just…” I shrug. “That.”

“Eddie,” she says slowly, really uncomfortable now. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Why did I have to say that. “Eddie, Milo and I are totally not together like that.”

My mind goes blank. “Yes, you are.”

“No,” she says. “Did he tell you that?”

“I—”

I try to remember every conversation I’ve had with Milo that’s centered around Missy, but I can’t. Not word for word. But I also can’t remember him saying he was with her now.

But I also can’t remember him denying it.

“I thought…”

My stomach sinks.

He made me think.

“I have a boyfriend,” Missy says. “Milo and I are friends now. We just talk.”

I don’t know what to say. I feel so stupid and angry and worse, still jealous. Milo and I are just friends. What does he need Missy to be his friend for? They just talk—but he won’t talk to me. This is worse than when I thought they were together. At least then I could understand why Missy was between us, if they were getting each other off, but now it isn’t even that.

He goes to her. Not me.

“I’m his best friend,” I say, before I can stop myself.

She looks so sad for me, I want to die.

“I know. Of course you are.” Her voice is patronizing but her eyes are painfully sincere. “You mean, like, everything to him.” I snort, because I don’t believe that anymore. “No, I mean … when he told me about your dad and how he found you, it was like—”

Stop.

“He told you about that?”

“Yeah, but…”

That’s it. That is so it. I get up. She reaches for me.

“Eddie, wait—”

I can’t even look at her. I can’t do this right now. I leave the room. I leave the house. I’m always leaving, but I never have anywhere to go.