Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between

“No way,” she says more firmly, but it doesn’t matter: He’s already pacing back and forth in excitement.

“It’s perfect,” he says, turning away. “No, it’s epic. Nobody’s ever done it. And there’s no way it wouldn’t be memorable.” He pauses in front of the couch, turning to her with a triumphant look. “It’s just big enough.”

“It’s too big,” she says flatly. “And too stupid.”

“Sorry,” he says, clapping his hands. “It’s a done deal. This is happening.”

“You seriously want to jump into Lake Michigan right now? Think about how cold it will be. And aren’t you tired?”

“Nope,” he says with a laugh. “I’m wide awake.”

Clare’s eyes wander over to the couch again, and then back to Aidan. He’s all lit up by his idea, smiling so hard that the bandage beneath his eye is losing its grip. Something about the sight of him—so eager to make the best of this night—makes her heart swell, and she sets down her Ping-Pong paddle.

“Well,” she says. “Don’t I at least get to suggest something, too?”

He gives her a skeptical look. “There’s no way you have a better idea.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Better than saving Rusty?” he asks, clearly tickled at the prospect. “Not possible.”

“You don’t even want to hear it?”

He shakes his head. “Nope,” he says. “There’s literally nothing in the world that I want to do more than save that stupid robot right now.”

“Okay,” Clare says, walking over to the couch, next to where Aidan has stopped his pacing just beside the coffee table. “I’m in.”

“Great,” he says with an officious nod. “Then we should probably get going.”

But just before he can walk away, she reaches out and grabs his hand. He spins around again, the smile slipping from his face, replaced by a look of confusion.

“I’m in,” she repeats, feeling uncharacteristically bold. “But I still think we should try mine first.”

It takes a moment for this to register—the way she’s looking at him, the way her hand is clasped in his—and when it does, his expression changes to one of surprise.

“Oh,” he says, his mouth caught in the shape of the word. His eyebrows shoot up high on his forehead, loosening the bandage further. “Oh.”

“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.