I shook my head and opened the door. “Come on.”

He let me lead him down the dirt path that was so familiar to me. His hand felt nice in mine, like it belonged there. I stopped us at the edge of the path and turned off the light on my phone. Then I took him by the shoulders and faced him toward the lake that I knew was now less than ten steps away. The only thing I could see was a few bright spots in the darkness—the reflection of the stars above on the water. I positioned myself behind him, laying my cheek on his back. I wrapped my arms around him, placing one palm flat on his chest so I could feel his heartbeat.

He took a deep breath in.

“What do you see?” I asked.

“Nothing. Darkness.”

“But you know there’s something there, right?”

“I assume something is there.”

“Just because you can’t see the future, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You don’t have to see everything clearly or know exactly where you’re going to move forward.”

I slipped out of my shoes and whispered for him to do the same. I felt him shift as he stepped out of his.

“You move forward.” I took a step, which pushed his leg forward and we walked like that until the water and mud seeped between our toes. “And when the future surrounds you, then you know where you are, what the steps you took led you to.”

“Are we at the lake?” he asked. His voice was low and husky.

“I swim here sometimes. If I had a car, I could swim here a lot more.” My cheek was still pressed up against his back, my arms still wrapped around his torso. Last time I had been here, I couldn’t force myself to relax. Now my whole body seemed to lack muscles. It would melt to the ground if I let it. Jackson laid one of his hands on top of mine.

“Jackson?”

“Hmm?”

“I like you just as much when you’re serious.”

It surprised me when he took a shuddering breath.

“You owe me comfort through an emotional breakdown,” he said.

“Yes. I totally do.”

At first I thought he was kidding, being funny, like he seemed to do when things got too heavy. But when he turned in my arms, put his forehead to my shoulder, and held on to me like his life depended on it, I realized he wasn’t. I didn’t think I was a sympathetic crier. I mean, my parents had cried many times and I’d stood there as dry eyed as the Sahara desert. But there was something about holding Jackson that got to me.

I rubbed his back like he had mine until it stilled. Until my feet were numb from the lake. He straightened up, touching his forehead to mine. He was a shadow in the darkness, but I could see his eyes shining. He took my face in his hands and kissed my cheeks where my tears lingered. Then he kissed my forehead. My hands held his wrists and I could tell he was going to move away so I tightened my hold. He paused, hesitated, then with a deep breath, kissed me.

My hands went to his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth was warm, his breath hot. I parted my lips and his tongue ran softly along them before it found mine, joining us closer together. He backed us out of the water, gripping my hips now. My hands went to his shoulders so that I didn’t fall.

His mouth tasted of cinnamon. Cinnamon was my new favorite flavor. My back hit a tree and he pressed himself against me.

And then his phone rang.

He groaned. “It must be twelve oh five.”

I tried to catch my breath, unsuccessfully. “If it’s your parents, you should answer so they know you’re safe.”

“I don’t know that I am safe.” He gave me a quick kiss, then picked up the phone.

I turned on my phone as well, shining the light on the ground so I could gather our shoes. I held them with one arm and with my other grabbed his hand and led him back to the truck while he assured whoever was on the phone that he was on his way home and had just lost track of time.

He hung up and kissed me again. “Yep. Totally worth it.”

I smiled.

We both looked at our muddy feet. He opened the truck door, dug the squirt gun out of the Eric box, and sprayed my feet several times. “I thought that would work better,” he said. “Like your brother was looking out for us or something.”

“I’m guessing my brother would find this amusing.”

“Are you once again pointing out that your brother is similar to me? After you were kissing me and everything?”

“Jackson. You are not my brother.”

He squirted my feet one more time. “I think I would’ve liked your brother.”

I hugged him. “I think I would’ve too.”

Thirty-Three

I tried not to register the mud now on the floor mats. I’d clean them up later. I’d put everything back to normal later. It would all be fine.

“I think the seat belt over here is broken,” he said, sliding next to me as I drove away from the lake and toward his house.

My heart seemed to stop. “It is? Can you fix it?”

“Moore, it was a joke. You know, the best pickup line ever.”

“Oh. Right. It’s just this truck: nothing can happen to it.”

“I know. It’s fine. You’ve done fine.” He kissed my cheek.

“Don’t distract me. I have to drive.”

He rested his hand on my knee, which wasn’t any less distracting. “Didn’t we already hear this song? Is the radio playing repeats?”

He was right. We had heard it. Or at least the first part of it, not the whole thing.

“That happened last time we stopped too. Is it a . . .” He pushed a button and the music stopped and a tape came sliding out of the slot on top. “It’s a tape.”

My breath caught. “It is? It must’ve been his. Does it say anything on it?”

He took it out and flipped it once. “No. But someone made it. There are too many artists on it to be one album.”

“Do you think Eric made it?”

“I don’t know, but if he did, he had excellent taste in music.”

“I was going to say the same thing.”

He smiled and put the tape back in the player. “Thanks for letting me be part of tonight. I had fun.”

“Me too. I guess you need to take Heath Hall away now.” I nodded toward the dash where he and his empty eyes still gazed at us creepily.

He loaded him into the backpack and zipped it up. “Do you have anyone you want to nominate to wear this?”

“Besides you?”

“I just walked into an icy cold lake. I’m good.”

I squeezed his hand. Was he good?

“I think I’m going to pass on the torch,” he said. “Let someone else be the mask’s keeper.”

“Really?”

“I was hanging on to it for so long because I felt like it was the only purpose I had in my life. I think I was scared to let it go. But it’s time for Heath to move on.”

“Do you know who you’re passing it to?”

“I’m not sure. What do you think about Amelia?”

The suggestion surprised me, but then it didn’t. “She’d actually be pretty perfect.”

We pulled up in front of his house and he didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, he turned toward me. “I’m so proud of you. This”—he pointed to the floor of the truck—“was amazing. Best fear I’ve ever witnessed. You crushed it. Not that I’m surprised. That’s what you do.”