❝How many nights does it take to count the stars? That's the time it would take to fix my heart.❞

-'Infinity' by One Direction

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It is not great, not at all, but it's not as if I'm going to protest. I already felt weird with just Macy and I; now, with Trevor and Meatball, I almost feel sick, but I don't want to be the lone dissenter.

Ashdown's a small town, and sometimes the only thing to do is walk around and reminisce. If that's what we tumble into tonight, I can only imagine what other neighbors will join us along the way - and what thoughts will spiral out of control if I'm forced to stroll down memory lane.

I say a little prayer, thanking God or the pretentious Angels or whoever's up there, that Veronica lives near me, in the outskirts. Unless she's out and about, which I admit could be likely, there's no chance of us running into her.

And by extension, there's no chance of us passing Will's house - almost kitty-corner from Veronica's. Like my lack of interactions with the Nyquists, since the funeral I haven't even driven up Fiddler's Elbow Road, the street both my dead boyfriend and ex-best friend live on.

In fact, since the funeral, I've divided almost everything I used to do into two parts: never, ever, participate again; and do almost everyday with the result of heartbreak. Dr. Pavone, my old grief counselor, used to make me put my feelings into diagrams and lists to help explain them, so here's one now:

Things I have stayed far away from in fear of a genuine PTSD flashback:

1. Passenger seats of cars 

2. Will's house and family 

3. All of Will and I's old friends

4. An actual attempt at happiness 

Things I do regularly in a form of self-destruction:

1. Watch football-related stuff

2. Spend my time fruitlessly attempting to sleep

3. Isolate myself

4. Keep my feelings to myself

Yay, (qualitative) statistics! My math teacher would be proud.

Erika, on the other hand, would not. I try to keep her wise words in mind, thinking to myself, Don't keep to yourself, Lila. Try to reach out, at least.

It takes a few painful moments for the guys to meet us halfway at the curb, and then we're walking down the pale sidewalk of Cherry Street. Unfortunately, there are no actual cherries here, just a few colonial-era houses and the General Store at the end of the block.

Somehow, along the way, Macy wanders to Meatball's side and they start joking about the possibilities for our senior prank; this enables Trevor to come up beside me. He has his hands stuffed in his sweatpants pockets and the expression on his dark face is solemn.

"Hey," he says simply, "It's been a while."

"Yeah," I say simply, "It has."

"How are you? I haven't really seen you around."

"I'm fine." Thumbing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I gaze at the ground, unable to meet the boy's eyes. "I've been around. Kind of. I've tended to stay in the shadows, though."

"That's a shame. You and Macy and Veronica always used to be the life of the party."

I don't know what he's trying to say to me. Is this code for something else, or is he just making small talk? After a second passes and I don't reply, Trevor's expression turns even further crestfallen.

"Look, Lila," he murmurs, "I can't imagine what you're going through. The PTSD, the grief... but don't worry, I miss him too. I see him in almost everything I do."

I inhale sharply, finally looking him straight in the eyes. "You do?"

"Yeah."

"Do you ever feel like... everyone's moved on too quickly?"

"Yeah."

The tight knot of anxiety in my chest loosens only slightly, undoing ever so slowly as Trevor continues, "Like, on Friday, at the football game. We lost, and afterwards, Coach Wycliffe was asking us what we could improve on, and everybody was giving answers on why we failed so miserably, and I was just thinking, 'It's because we don't have Will. He was our saving grace.' But nobody even acknowledged him."

Saving grace. Yes, that's a good way to describe him. Halfway between a rogue and a hero, partially the All-American boy next door and partially an idealistic rebel. Finally, someone who understands.

The mournful look in Trevor's eyes makes my neck go cold.

Dusk is spreading around us, swathing Ashdown in twilight. The last time I took an awkward, moonlit stroll like this, I was much happier, and the awkwardness was caused by something much different.

Around me, I almost hear the laughter and cicadas, supplemented by the perfume of cotton candy and funnel cake and mechanical grease. It was the August before freshman year, and the annual Ashdown Fair was set up in the empty fields out beyond the river. Like all of the summers before, I spent my night traversing the festival with Will, although as freshly "edgy and cool" teenagers, we were being a bit more cynical than usual.

I was sipping on a strawberry milkshake, and we were wandering around near the Ferris wheel, watching the sorry excuse for a pig scramble that was taking place a few meters away.

If I remember correctly, I wore a pastel red sundress and sandals and Mama had combed my hair into a complicated braid; Will was wearing a faded gray t-shirt and battered blue jeans, his tawny hair poking out from underneath a Red Sox hat.

"I just... I don't understand the purpose of a pig scramble," he had said, shaking his head. "It's so inhumane. Greasing up pigs and forcing them to run away from little kids doesn't seem like the best way to raise them."

"That's rural America for you," I replied. "I love Ashdown, but it would be nice if we could go somewhere with better entertainment. Somewhere warm."

"That's your Caribbean blood, Lila,'-" this was a quote from my mom that made me chuckle when Will said it "- But I get it. You know I'd go anywhere, really. Miami, California, the Caribbean, god-forbid Texas if that's what it has to come down to..."

My chuckle grew into a laugh. "What's wrong with Texas? Can't see me wearing a Stetson and riding a horse, at home on the range?"

"I think you gravely misunderstand modern Texas, Lila," Will said, but he was smiling too.

We turned from the strange game when a young red-headed boy was declared victorious, his captured pig squealing all the while, and started wandering to the edges of the field. I threw my empty milkshake cup away, the plastic crinkling as it landed in the can, then said to my best friend, "Seriously, though, can't you just see it? Say we move to Los Angeles after graduation. We spend our days working odd jobs, go on adventures, run into celebrities along the way, come home to wacky roommates..."

"It sounds more like I'm a TV exec and you're describing the pilot for a potential sitcom-" he paused, and cocked his head curiously, as if thinking deeply, then continued - "But I'll take it. Sounds like it could make for a pretty great show."

Both of our smiles grew.

In the nightfallen sky above, feathery clouds passed beyond the moon, letting its silver glow shine upon us. In the light, Will looked like an angel in a baseball cap. Somewhere in the background, a country song about Southern love was playing, which seemed strange considering we lived only about 2 hours from the Canadian border.

No offense to Canada, but I didn't want to live near its border, nor did I want to live in "The South™". All I wanted was heat and saltwater and to never stop seeing Will smile.

In fact, as he and I stood there at the edges of the fairground, surrounded by untrimmed grass and cigarette buds and the buzz of crickets, I realized that I didn't really even need the heat or the saltwater. I just needed Will.

I think that's the moment I also realized I was in love with him.

"Wherever you go, Lila," Will said gently, "I will follow. If you want me to, of course."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He paused, then, and looked away, quietly adding, "That's what you do for people you love."

My jaw went slack. "What did you just say?"

Just barely, I saw his skin go red. He removed his hat with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other before saying, "You heard what I said."

Finally, he looked at me, clear-eyed and caring, and I felt the whole world melt away around me like a popsicle in the summer sun.

"I think - no, I know - I'm in love with you, Lila. I have been for a while, but I've never really had the nerve to say it, and I know this isn't the best time, but I just... I had to get it out." He lowered his brow. "Please don't let this ruin our-"

Before he could say the word friendship, I grabbed his face, closed my eyes, and kissed him.

When my eyes open, I'm no longer 14 and awkwardly attempting to kiss my first crush. I'm staring in a daze at Trevor Jolie, whose expression matches mine with just a bit more confusion and surprise.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," I breathe. "I'm fine."

We look at each other for a moment, and I desperately scan his eyes for some sort of sign of what I just did, the flashback I just had in the middle of our walk, but it's gone like dust in the wind.

My stomach lurches; I look away and he does too, a few locs falling in his face.

I don't know how long I was lost in memories, but whether that blank stare I was giving him lasted a second or an hour, it succeeded in making the tension even more uncomfortable.

At that point, and thank god for it, Macy backtracks and touches my arm before nodding to the direction in front of us and asking, "Isn't that Kat?"

I follow her gesture and see that we have reached the end of the block and are coming upon Jackal Boulevard, the high school almost directly diagonal from us. Far beyond the square, I watch the floodlights of the stadium slowly shut down, one by one. And sure enough, my little sister is standing at the curb, a soccer ball notched in the crook of her arm and her phone nestled comfortably between her palms.

"Kat?!" I shout, even though we really aren't that far away as we come to a stop.

She snaps her head up, narrows her eyes to see me in the darkness, then exclaims back, "Lila?"

I push past Meatball to come to the edge of the sidewalk. "What are you doing?"

"Because of the in-service day tomorrow, practice was cancelled. So we called our own impromptu practice out behind the ridge. What about you?-" she gestures to Macy and Trevor and Meatball. "-what are you doing?"

I ignore her question and cross the street, leaving my acquaintances behind to join Kat where she's standing.

Ashdown may be a small town, but it's also a mountain town, and anybody with any regard to the eminent threat of bears, coyotes, and wildcats wouldn't even think of walking through the Outskirts at night. But it seems that's what my sister was planning to do. Crossing my arms, I ask softly, "Were you just gonna walk home by yourself?"

Kat stares at me, then glances at the other three, who are standing plainly across the street, waiting for us to finish talking. Macy's biting her nails, Trevor still can't meet my eyes, and Meatball's playing with the zipper on his hoodie.

"You guys can go on without me," I declare, waving them off, even though by doing so I'm ruining my chance at an 'all-nighter' with Macy. Turning back to Kat...

"I need the exercise, Lila," she says. She's glaring, but the stiffness in her posture betrays her anxiety. "Coach said I lost some of my stamina over the summer. I need to build it back up. And we don't live that far away, anyway."

I wish I could say something to reassure her that she's the most fit, most prepared member of the entire Varsity soccer team, but she takes everything said by Coach Clemmons - who is also the high school's health teacher - as gospel.

I remember what she said about feeling excluded by my friends and I, and an idea forms in my head. Glancing back across the street, I see the guys have already started to move along, but Macy's prancing over to us. When she lands at the curb, she grins.

"Hi, Kat!" Macy's voice is enthusiastic.

"Hi, Macy." Kat's voice is not.

"I ditched the guys. I didn't want to leave you behind, Lila."

Surprised, yet grateful, I smile at Macy. "Thank you."

"Of course!" One foot into the conversation and one foot out, Macy pulls up the sleeve of her army jacket and takes one of the many hair bands circling her wrist, pulling her hair into a fountain of a ponytail. As she manages this, her head tipped down for leverage, she says, "What time is it, anyway?"

"Quarter to eight." Kat glances at the fluorescent white light coming from her gold phone, then pockets it. "Were you guys just out for an evening stroll or something?"

"We were bored, and there's not much else to do." Macy tips her head back up, letting the brown curls cascade around her face.

"I guess it is either that or peruse Ashdown's fine selection of small businesses." Kat frowns, the muscles surrounding her dark eyebrows threading themselves into a veritable juncture. "Or, you know, just go home like normal people."

Macy scoffs. "We're American teenagers, living in a wicked small town and coming straight out of a football-obsessed public high school. We're about as normal - and cliche - as they come. And besides, one of the telephone poles along Route 7 was knocked down yesterday, and the internet is weak. All you can do at home is watch TV."

This is news to me. My phone's service had been crawling along failingly all day today, but I hadn't paid much attention. The quality of my internet seemed like a meek problem compared to everything else.

All this time, I've been standing there quietly, letting the northern winds caress my face and feeling like anything I have to say would annoy Kat or polarize Macy - or both. But here, I finally say, "I can take you home, if you really want to go-"

"Or you could hang out with us!" Macy interrupts.

"Really?" Kat automatically ignores my offer and practically jumps at Macy's invitation. "I always got the impression you thought I was annoying."

"Jesus, Cabreras, do trust issues run in you guys' family?" Macy places a hand on both my sister and I's shoulder; Kat and I glance at each other, just barely confused. "I don't think you're annoying, Kat, I like you! And Lila, you should already know this, but I like you too! And I'd honestly rather waste time with you than with Meatball and Trevor."

"But Trevor's your boyfriend."

Macy winces, like the topic of her love life is something we shouldn't breach. "Yeah, and I love him, I do - he's my best friend in the world - but... things are weird between us."

This is also news to me. I'm not surprised so many things surprise me, considering I hardly talk to anyone anymore, but I am curious why "things are weird".

"What's wrong?" Kat and I ask at the same time - eliciting a deeper scowl to appear on the former's face.

"It's kind of a long story. Mind if we go somewhere?"

✕✕✕

Hesitantly, Kat and I follow Macy as she leads us back up the opposite side of Cherry Street and explains that really, her boyfriend's issues are thanks to my boyfriend's issues - that is to say, death. Of course, she explains it in a much more diplomatic way: Ever since Will died, Trevor's been throwing himself even further into his sports, because he thinks that if he gets into a good college football program, he'll make Will proud.

The sentiment touches me, even though I can't relate in the slightest. I appreciate Trevor's intent, but personally, I don't want to make Will proud - I just want to be with him again.

Of course, this method of coping has led to a rift between free-spirited, fun-loving Macy and her now up-tight boyfriend. As my face falls, Macy rushes to reassure me that it's okay, "It's not Will's fault or anything", but the damage is done. Though everybody's told me I wasn't responsible for the crash, I start to feel guilty anyway, my heart drowning in the thought that if I had died instead of Will, Ashdown and almost all of its inhabitants would be in a much better place.

We reach my car and decide to drive somewhere, anywhere; Kat gets in the backseat, tossing the soccer ball onto the floor behind her, but just as I make my way to the driver's side, Macy says, "I'm really sorry if I offended you Lila, I didn't mean it that way. I'm just trying to say that I feel really, really bad for Trevor."

I frown, and she quickly adds, "And for you, of course."

"Thanks."

"It's not your fault, okay? And it's not Will's, either, nor is it Trevor's or mine or anything like that. The only person that chose for the crash to happen was whoever controls all this shit. The Grim Reaper, The Fates... whoever it is, they're an asshole."

I cough to mask the unhappy laugh I almost let loose.

"Maybe they're just misunderstood," I murmur. "Part of a world they may have never chose in the first place."

"What?" Macy narrows her eyes. "Lila, please don't think that I'm trying to make you feel guilty or something. I'm not. In fact, I like having an excuse to hang out with you. There's been a lot of times in the past - even when Will was... still alive - that I wanted to be with you and Kat but I was forced to be with Trevor and Veronica."

"Really?"

She nods solemnly. "Really. Now, are we going to go somewhere, or what?"

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In the end, we drive to the Fox and I say hi to Elaine and Andie over my first real meal of the day. Back in downtown, I park the car in the lot of Ashdown's only bank. We wander to the General Store (which, at this point, is only 15 minutes from closing) and peruse the stack of brochures advertising MAJESTIC WATERFALLS! and COVERED BRIDGE TOURS! before heading back outside.

Main Street is lined with such exciting places as insurance agencies, bars, and farming stores. As we stroll down it, we imagine what life would be like if only we had normal chain restaurants instead of 3 dives, a Chinese take-out, The Fox, and a pizza place that's probably just a front for the Mafia. Once, the lack of a Chick-fil-a was one of my biggest issues with Ashdown. Now, I know there's a lot more and a lot worse simmering underneath the surface.

Macy tells us all the ideas Meatball has for the senior prank, and though I'm sure they'll all change by the time spring creeps into our little corner of the world, we give feedback on the ones that have potential (hire a mariachi band to follow Principal Harmon - who hates music - around for the day) and veto ones that are just plain stupid (rent a cow and let it loose in the cafeteria). That last one Kat especially hates, claiming, "The cow would just stand there and look for grass to eat! Cows don't do anything!"

Mama texts me along the way: Are you and Kat both out?

Yeah. We're hanging out with Macy downtown.

K. Please stay safe. Don't do anything illegal.

Not planning on it.

And that's it. No talk of a curfew or wanting us home to get sleep. It's looking more and more certain like I might get this all-nighter over with after all.

We go to the 24 hour pharmacy and make fun of the strange, outdated products they sell, and then we go to O'Rourke's - the hardware shop - and make fun of the strange, outdated products they sell. Later, somehow, Macy convinces Kat and I to go to the Midnight Showing of It at the old movie theater. And it's here that I face the only real speed bump in this night-long adventure - Veronica's there, with a junior named Jenna who has been leeching off of Veronica's popularity since 7th grade.

"Ugh," Kat makes a guttural noise as we enter the theater lobby. "Jen-na. I hate her."

"That makes two of us." Macy narrows her eyes. "She's always following Veronica around, trying to be exactly like her. I think she's trying to replace me."

For a moment, I'm worried Macy is going to go over to the other girls, but she turns towards us with a smile on her face. "No matter! We're not here to socialize, we're here to see an evil clown eat some Mainers! Come along!"

Just like that - just like when I realized I was in love with Will, and just like when I realized I'm going to die, and just like when I realized Trevor was still grieving too - I realize Macy isn't as self-centered as I always, perhaps rudely, believed her to be.

Maybe I can salvage something from the fragmented remnants of our friendship. Maybe I will have stories to tell in Heaven.

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We end up staying out all night. I won't go into extreme detail of every person we saw or every little thing we do - search up an article that's titled something like "15 Things People In Small Towns Do!" and you'll get the general gist - but somehow, Kat and I don't come home, stumbling through the door and caught up in laughter, until 5:33 AM.

Kat goes back to her room, but not before throwing a smile my way and saying, "Thank you for letting me hang out with you."

"That's what sisters are for, chica."

And then I'm alone in the hall. I make my way back to my room, passing the door to Mama's suite, where I can hear her tossing and turning in bed. Out over the horizon, the sun isn't quite up, but it's starting to peek above the autumnal hills. The entire house is quiet except for the creak of the old wood boards beneath me.

My room is empty, home only to an old white desk, a bookshelf full of books I haven't opened in years, and my pale queen bed. My laptop is sitting half open on top of the haphazardly tossed comforters, and I'm reminded why I went out in the first place: to get ice cream to eat while reading lines for Hamlet.

Cringing, I shut the door gently behind me and tiptoe over to my bed. Somehow, I know that I won't see Mor again until he decides to help me with my next task. And somehow, I know that Will is watching me right now, proud of the reappearance of my moderately decent social skills.

I'm too tired to overthink anything right now, instead focusing on hauling the laptop to my desk and flopping down on my mattress. By getting back into bed I'm certainly dooming myself to a fitful emotional state, tormented by flashbacks and nightmares, but maybe I'll strike it lucky tonight - or should I say, this morning.

I let the sheets and blankets overtake me, not even bothering to get dressed, and it's only a few moments before I'm pulled deep, deep down into the restless heart of sleep. But for once, the last thing I think of is not the crash - it's the thought of Macy beaming, of Kat laughing her heart out. More than anything, it's the possibility that one day, I may be able to see Will grin again, too.

The final oddment I feel before everything goes black is a small smile on my face.

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A/N: Ngl I loved writing that fair scene. Unfortunately in PA (where I live) we don't really have good fairs. We do have a State Farm Show, though, so if you like cows, potato donuts, and butter sculptures, you'd be satisfied...

Signing off from Pennsylvania. Stay awesome, everyone.

xoxo, Athena

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