working.
“On Wednesday,” he’d said, meaning their anniversary, “I’m going to pick you up before school. Be ready, okay?”
“What time?”
“5:45.”
She stared open-mouthed at him. “That’s a joke . . . right?”
It wasn’t.
On Wednesday, she woke up before her alarm. The sun wasn’t up yet, as she caked her makeup on beneath the harsh glow of her bathroom light. Her eyes were droopy and tired.
At 5:45 sharp, she got a text: “I’m here.”
Downstairs, she locked the door behind her and climbed into the passenger seat. Simon smiled, and she immediately felt more awake.
“Happy anniversary,” he said, leaning into her, saying it directly over her lips.
She kissed him. “Happy anniversary back.”
He drove her across the street, and it wasn’t hard to figure out from there. As they walked through the woods, heading toward the pond, he draped his arm around her and she let him support her. Morning was always cold without the sun, and Wendy shivered beneath his hand.
“Best memory,” he said, “from the last three months.”
“So sleepy,” she groaned.
“Come on,” he said, lifting up her shoulder.
She picked her head. “All right, all right. Watching the rain. You kissing me. Oh, no wait. Maybe the day we found the pond. I don’t know. This is hard.”
He laughed. “Okay, you can take two then. Mine was that day at the pond, definitely. I don’t know. It was when I first really knew.”
He paused, snapping his head away from her. She pressed, “Knew what?”
They were at the pond again, just the two of them, alone in the world. He directed her over to a fallen tree trunk, and together they watched the mist hover over the water. She knew what he was going to say. She hoped she did.
“Want to know why I dragged you out here so early?” he asked.
She shrugged. “So you could kill me? No witnesses. A river nearby. It’s the perfect plan.”
“That’s a really good point. I’ll keep that in mind for when I actually plan to do you in.”
“Do me in? Your murder-sayings are a little outdated, don’t you think?”
He ruffled her hair. “Can we not talk about murder right now, please?”
“Fine. But I’m watching my back.”
He angled himself in her direction and pointed at the skyline. “Look.”
When she turned around, the sky molded itself into pink and lavender blooms, looking more alive than she’d ever seen it before. The sun was making a grand entrance, laying out a carpet of soft, brilliant clouds. There was so much sky to see from here. She couldn’t imagine a better person to see it with.
“Wow,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen a sunrise before.”
“Never? Not even on the beach?”
“No,” she said, falling back into his arms and landing against his warm chest. “Never.”
“I’ll take you one day.”
“Yeah?” she asked, glancing up at him.
“Yes,” he said. “Someday when we’re old enough to take trips together. I’ll get us a condo. We’ll wake up early, watch the sunrise, then have breakfast somewhere.”
His words took shape in her head like a movie, something she wanted to play over and over again. He spoke with such conviction that she believed every syllable. They had a future. She was sure of it.
“I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his backpack.
She sat up, tucking the stray hairs behind her ears. “I didn’t get you anything. Don’t hate me.”
“You don’t have to get me anything,” he said. “Well, actually, I do want something, but just wait one second. Close your eyes.”
“You really are going to kill me, aren’t you?”
He made a face at her. His seriously, Wendy face. So, she closed her eyes.
“Open your hands.”
She did.
He placed something in them. Something cold.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
When she looked down, there was a rectangular palette in her hands. There were colors in it, so many of them, reds and blues and greens and more.
“Watercolor paints,” she
“On Wednesday,” he’d said, meaning their anniversary, “I’m going to pick you up before school. Be ready, okay?”
“What time?”
“5:45.”
She stared open-mouthed at him. “That’s a joke . . . right?”
It wasn’t.
On Wednesday, she woke up before her alarm. The sun wasn’t up yet, as she caked her makeup on beneath the harsh glow of her bathroom light. Her eyes were droopy and tired.
At 5:45 sharp, she got a text: “I’m here.”
Downstairs, she locked the door behind her and climbed into the passenger seat. Simon smiled, and she immediately felt more awake.
“Happy anniversary,” he said, leaning into her, saying it directly over her lips.
She kissed him. “Happy anniversary back.”
He drove her across the street, and it wasn’t hard to figure out from there. As they walked through the woods, heading toward the pond, he draped his arm around her and she let him support her. Morning was always cold without the sun, and Wendy shivered beneath his hand.
“Best memory,” he said, “from the last three months.”
“So sleepy,” she groaned.
“Come on,” he said, lifting up her shoulder.
She picked her head. “All right, all right. Watching the rain. You kissing me. Oh, no wait. Maybe the day we found the pond. I don’t know. This is hard.”
He laughed. “Okay, you can take two then. Mine was that day at the pond, definitely. I don’t know. It was when I first really knew.”
He paused, snapping his head away from her. She pressed, “Knew what?”
They were at the pond again, just the two of them, alone in the world. He directed her over to a fallen tree trunk, and together they watched the mist hover over the water. She knew what he was going to say. She hoped she did.
“Want to know why I dragged you out here so early?” he asked.
She shrugged. “So you could kill me? No witnesses. A river nearby. It’s the perfect plan.”
“That’s a really good point. I’ll keep that in mind for when I actually plan to do you in.”
“Do me in? Your murder-sayings are a little outdated, don’t you think?”
He ruffled her hair. “Can we not talk about murder right now, please?”
“Fine. But I’m watching my back.”
He angled himself in her direction and pointed at the skyline. “Look.”
When she turned around, the sky molded itself into pink and lavender blooms, looking more alive than she’d ever seen it before. The sun was making a grand entrance, laying out a carpet of soft, brilliant clouds. There was so much sky to see from here. She couldn’t imagine a better person to see it with.
“Wow,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen a sunrise before.”
“Never? Not even on the beach?”
“No,” she said, falling back into his arms and landing against his warm chest. “Never.”
“I’ll take you one day.”
“Yeah?” she asked, glancing up at him.
“Yes,” he said. “Someday when we’re old enough to take trips together. I’ll get us a condo. We’ll wake up early, watch the sunrise, then have breakfast somewhere.”
His words took shape in her head like a movie, something she wanted to play over and over again. He spoke with such conviction that she believed every syllable. They had a future. She was sure of it.
“I have something for you,” he said, reaching into his backpack.
She sat up, tucking the stray hairs behind her ears. “I didn’t get you anything. Don’t hate me.”
“You don’t have to get me anything,” he said. “Well, actually, I do want something, but just wait one second. Close your eyes.”
“You really are going to kill me, aren’t you?”
He made a face at her. His seriously, Wendy face. So, she closed her eyes.
“Open your hands.”
She did.
He placed something in them. Something cold.
“Okay, open your eyes.”
When she looked down, there was a rectangular palette in her hands. There were colors in it, so many of them, reds and blues and greens and more.
“Watercolor paints,” she
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